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THE  SCOTISH 

MUSICAL  MUSEUM; 

CONSISTING  OF  UPWARDS 

OF  SIX  HUNDEED  SONGS, 

WIIH 

PROPER  BASSES  FOR  THE  PIANOFORTE. 

ORIGINALLY  PUBLISHED 

BY   JAMES  JOHNSON; 

AND  NOW  ACCOMPANIED  WITH 

COPIOUS  NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS  OF  THE  LYRIC 
POETRY  AND  MUSIC  OF  SCOTLAND, 

BY  THE  LATE  WILLIAM  STENHOUSE. 

WITH  SOME 

ADDITIONAL  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

VOLUME  VL 


WILLIAM  BLACKWOOD  AND  SONS,  EDINBURGH; 
AND  THOMAS  CADELL,  LONDON. 
M.DCCC.XXXIX. 


^cc^^^^z^^  ^^^^^^^^ 


Frrmled  $c  Sote  fyjAMES  JOHNSON  MUSK  Setler  EDINBURGH  to  ie  (U 

tPrestonn?9>7  strand  London,  m?Fadyen  Glasgow,  &at, t// t/w /m  >■ 

Mufic  Sellers. 


Ill 

|  Preface. 

ipHX  Editor  now  present*  to  the  Public  the  Sixth  Volume  of  tic 
Scots  Musical  Museum;  which  in  all  probability  will  be  the  last. 

These  Volumes  contain  every  Scotish  Air  and  Song,  which  tie  en 
-ertions  of  the  Editor,  *nd  those  of  his  friends  and  numerous  com  s 
-pondents,  have  been  able  to  procure  during  a  per.od  of  sixteen  y  ,a,  ». 
He  is  therefore  inclined  to  think  that  the  Scots  Musical  Museum  now 
contains  almost  every  Scotish  Song  extant.  However,  as  he.  wishes  ,„ 
make  it  as  complete  as  poss.ble,  he  will  spare  no  pains  in  endeavour, 
-ing  to  procure  am  which  may  hitherto  have  escaped  his  researched 
if  successful,  they  will  be  published  at  some  future  period. 

Without  wishing  to  over  rate  this  publication,  the  Editor  may  be 
permitted  to  observe,  that  it  unquestionably  contains  the  greatest  Col 
.  l«tio„  of  Scotish  Vocal  Music  ever  published,  including  many  excel 
lent  Songs  written •  for  it  by  BCJRNS;  He  therefore  flatters  himself 
with  the  hope  that  the  predicts  of  our  celebrated  BARD  respecting 
i.  will  be  verified;  and  that  "To  futu«  ages  the  Scots  MuVica!  Museum 
"will  be  the  Text  Book  and  Standard  of  Scotish  Song  and  Music."* 

*  See  extract  from  BUBNSS  Letter  in  the  Preface  to  Volume  £h 

ESinf  June  4,h„l803. 

Entered  in  Stationers  Hall. 


FV 

T      X      D      E  X. 


Not;,,  The  Songs  in  the  5  preceding    Volumes  marked  R.and   B.  the 

Editor  i.s  now  at  liberty  to  say  arc  the  production  :of  Mr.  BURNS   The 

Originals  of  Mr.Hl'KNS  S  writing  are  in  his  possession  _  They  were 
written  tor  this  work,  but  being  often  sent  the  TCditor  on  the  spur  of  the 
moment,  Mr.  BURNS  requested  these  marks  only,  and  not  his  name  should 
be  add<  •!  t  o  them. 

Tirst  line  of  earh  Son£.  Authors  f\gC 

\s  I  went  o'er  the  highland  hills  525 
As  walking  forth  to  view  the  plain  ..  .  526 

\«   day  a  braw  wooer  Burns    .     _  .     .     _  533 

\h   Mary  sweetest  maid  farewell  _    _  „    _  _         _  546 

Anna  thy  charms  my  bosom  fire    _     .     Burns  .  _  547 

\  cogie  of  ale  and  a  pickle  ate  meal  _  .  Sherrifs  .Music  by  M<;lntosh564 
\h  I  was  walking  by  yon  river  side  _  ,  _  .  _  ^  J  _  566 
Argyll  is  my  nan  e  .  _  _  .  _  By  J.  Duke  of  Argyll  .  „  _  573 
An*  I'll  awa  to 'bonny  Tweed -side  _    .    _  .    .    .     .  580 

As  i  lav  on  my  bed  on  a  night  601 
A  Sold  ier  for  gallant  achievements  renoun'd  _     .    _  608 

Adieu!  a  h<lai  t    warm,  fond  adieu  _     _        Burns    .  .    _  620 

Behind  von  hills  where  vivlets  row,       _  Burns  .  .  600 

Bright  the  moon  aboon  yon  mountain  _    Hamilton  .    _  .612 

c 

Come  under  my  plaidv  .    -     _          _    .  Macneil.JCsqV  ..  _    _    _  550 

Tome  follow,  follow  552 

Chanticleer,  wi*  noisy  whistle  -  _  Music  by  S.  Clarke  .568 

Can  Id  is  the  e'enin  blast   _    _    _          _   Burns  .    ^    .  .  603 

D 

Dors  haughty  Gaul  invasion  threat  _  Burns,  Music  bv  S.Clarke.  _  .565 

F 

Fra^j  Dunibter  as  I  cam  through  .    ...  _  528 

1  ntvxll  ve  fields  an  meadows  green  .    .Hamilton   .  597 

G 

Ho  to  Berwick  Johnny  ...  Hamilton  .....  534 
Gudeen  to  you  kimmer  .....  Burns  .....  540 
Gently  blaw  u  eastern  bree/.es     .  Anderson     .       ...  58! 

Go  plaintive  sound   ...     .     .  .  W.Hamilton  Enq^.      .  595 

H 

Have  ye  any  pots  or  pans    ...    .  536 

Tfeyl  my  kitten  my  kitten      .  .      ......      .  577 

How  sweet  is  the  scene  at  the  dawning  o*  morning  Gall  .  _  586 
Ifow  sweet  this  lone  vale  .  .  .  A.  Erskine,  KsqT  .  533 
Hard  is  the  fate  of  him  who  loves  _     .  Thomson  6IO 


V 

I      X      D      E  X 

T  Page 

In  Brechin  did  a  wabster  dwell   _  54 j 

I  rim  a  young    bachelor  winsome  556 

In  yon  garden  fine  an  gay  532 

jockeys  taen  the  parting  kiss    _      .     _    Hums        "1  539 

I  care-  na  for  your  een  sae  blue  _     _     _  Hamilton  .         _     _  619 

L 

Lord  I  nomas  and  fair  Annet  -                        .  551 

Little  wat  ye  wha*s  coming-   _     ...     _           ..    2  59 1 

Liv'd  ancc-  two  lovers  in  yon  dale    .                                     „  ftffi 

M 

%  P«gR>*»  face,  my  Bevy's  form,  -   -    -Hums    .     .     .     _    _  .517 

My  Daddy  left  me  gear  enough  _     _  '        _     _  542 

My  Lady's  gown  there's  -airs  upon't    _    _  Burns-     -            ^  57;} 

My  Jeany  and  1  have  toilet   -     .  59Q 

'  N 

Now  bank  and  brae  are  claith'd  in  ^reen    _  537 

No  Churchman  am  I  for  to  rail  and  to  write  .  Burns   ..  6O6 

O  steer  her  up  and  had  her  gaun   _  52 Q 

0  Cherub  Content  Campbell  .  52h 
O  Bothwetl  bank  thou  bloomest  fair     Music  by  J.  Fergus           _  529 

O  .ty  n:y  wife  she  dang  me  _     _     _           Burns    _          /  549 

O  tell  me  my  bonny  young  lassie    _     .    Macniel,  Ksq!         .  553 

O  Man  turn  awa  that  bonny  face  _         .  Gall  _  5^q 

O  t<udc  ale  comes  _    .     _     _     _     _      ;    Burns  56  | 

O  where  and  O  where  does  your  highland  laddie  dwell  .566 

O  once  1  lov'd  a  bonnie  lass   _           .         Burns  S70 

O  dinna  think  bonnie  lassie  574 

O  gin  I  were  fairly  shot  o'   her    .      .      _    Anderson  576 

O  ken  ye  what  Me-  o  the  mill  has  gotten  -  Bums  535 

O  leave  novels, ye  Mauchlin  belles        .    _  Burns  592 

O  lay  ihy  loof  in  mine  lass    _     _      _          Burns  593 

0  heard  ye  of  a  silly  Harper    -          '  593 

O  turn  away  those  cruel  eyes       .  gQ^ 

O  Mary  >e*s  be  clad  in  silk      Music  h\    Miss   G.  C.  6f)  S 

O  that  I  had  neer  been  married  -           .    Burns  6  |  -j 

O  gin  my  love   were  yon  red  rose             ...  I  |  J 

O  Mally s  meek,  Mallvs  sweet  .             .     Burns  6 1 7 

H 

Red  gltam«  the  sun  on  y  on  hill  tap         .  '  D.r  Couper  $[9 
How  saftlv  thou  stream    .  (^a|| 

Robin  shure  in  hairs!  .           .     _     _     ,    Hums  _            .  5fp 

Return  hameward  ny  hear!  again    _  57^ 


VI 

I      N      D      E  X 

£  Authors  Vugi 

SW-nes  of  woe  and  scenes  of  pleasure  -    _  Burns  _  the  Music  by{  533 

A.Masterton  J 

•Stern  winter  ha«  le£i~fl*  544 
Sweetest  May  let  love  inspire  thee  _     -     -  Burns  _    -     -      _  •  „  573 
Sure  my  Jean  is  beauty  8  blossom    _     _   -Gall-    -----  537 

•Saw  ye  the  Thane  o*  meikle  pride  _  -  -  Mackenzie,  lCsqf  -  -  -594 
*\S<  ots  wha  hae  wi*  Wallace  bled  -   -    _    -  Burns  -  _  5.96 

T 

Tho  for  seven  >  ears  and  mair       -               Ramsay  -  _  522 

Tvyas  summer  and  softly  the  bree/.es    _           -                  -  „  532 

Twas  at  the  shining  midday-  hour  _    -    -   Hamsav  -  .  -     j"  _     -  534 

The  Queen  o*  the  Lothians  cam  cruisin  to  fife  -    -       _       -  -  539 

Thy  cheek  is  o*  the  roses  hue  _  Gall  -  _  5A3 
'Twits  at  (lie  silent  solemn  hour   -                 Mallet  -  Music  bv~) 

S.  Clarke  J    '  554 

The  sun  in  the  west    _            .      .     -          -Gall                     -  -    _  557 

There  was  a    wife  wonn'd  in  Cockpen  -     -  Burns  -  553 

Tis  nae  very  lang  sinsyne  -           -                                      -  -  569 

"Tlie  ny  mphs  and  shepherds  are  met  on  the  green    _  574 

There  was  a  noble  lady  -     --     --     --    --    --  --  532 

The  rain  rins  down  thro*  Merry- land  toune   _                     ,  602 

There  was  a  bonie  lass  -                       -    -  Burns    -  '>  J6 

There  news  lasses  news    -             -                Burns  _  609 

Tejll  me  Jessy  tell  me  -      _   ■  -           -    -  Hamilton  _      _  _  #6I3 

'The  night  is  my  departing  night        _     _     _                   -  620 

W 

.VNfliar'hae  ye  been  a*  day,  ny  boy  Tarn  my  -    -  MacnieUKsq^  -    -    _  5l8 
When  I  gaed  to  the  mill  my  lane  -     _     -     -     -     -     -    - '   _  .  _  521 

Whar'  V.sk  its  silver  current  leads  -     -  Carey-  -----  522 

Wee  Willie  Gray  -     -     -     -      .     _    -    -    -  Burns  -    -    -    -    _  530 

When  the  days  they  are  tang  ---------  53 O 

Willys  rare  and  Willys  fair  --------- 54  2 

Wha  wadna  be  in  love  wf  bonny  Maggv  Lauder  562 
When  I  think  on   my  lad   -  570 

Y 

You  ask  me  charming  fair  -                         -     ysr.  Hamilton  Yls<\T.  _  534 

Ve  Muses  nine, O  lend  y  our  aid    -     -  1      .     -    -          _     -     _  -  6 1 1 

You  sing  of  our  good  man  frae  hame     _     _     -  614 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS, 


VOLUME  VL 

Page 

Songs  DI.  to  DC,   517 

Illustrations,    439 

Additional  Illustrations,   *513 

Indexes  of  Airs,    i 

Indexes  of  Songs,   xxjj 

General  Index,    .................  XXvii 


Written  for  this  Work  bv  Robert  Burns 


5i: 


The  lily  's  hue,  the  rofe*s  die, 
The  kindling  luftre  of  an  eye; 
VVho  but  owns  their  ma^ic  fway, 
who  but  knows  they  all  decayi 
The  tenter  thrill,  the  pitying  fear, 
The  %t  n<  rou.s  pu-pofe   nobly  dear, 
The  tffrttjr  look  that  Kafte  difarms, 
Thefe  are  ail  Immortal  charms. 


Dear  Mf  Publisher, 

1  holJt  affainft  I  return,  you  will  be  able  to  tell  me 
from  Mr.CLAtUE  if  thefe  words  will  fuit  the  tune.      If  they  dont  fuit, 
i  rouft  think  on  forte  other  Air;  as   I  have  a  very  ftrong  private  roalun 
tor  wifhme  th,m  m  the  2«*  Volume.     _  Don't  fotgtt  to  tranfrribc  tee  the 
lift  of  the  Antiquarian  MuPc  lercweL 

H.  BUHNS. 


616 


My  boy  Tain  ray. 
^02  ^       Uhar  hae  ->e  been  a'aay,  my  boy  Tammy  whar  hae  ;e  .Keen  a'  dlv 


A  I  if  tie  lively 


im  boy  Tammy.     !  ve  been  by  burn  and  flowYy  brae  meado 
Q 


w  green  and 


)\  J  .  .    '      '     ~  ■  


mountain  grey  courting  o' this  young  thing  juft  come  frae  her  mammy 


And  whar  gat  ye  that  young  thing  my  boy  Tammy: 
I  gat  her  down  in  yonder  how, 
Smiling  on  a  broomy  know, 

Herding  ae  wee  Lamb  and  Ewe  for  her  poor  VKnmsv  . 

What  faid  vt  to  the  bonny  bairn  my  hoy  Tnmm\i 
I  prrns'd  her  een  fae  lovely  blue, 
Her  dimpled  c  heek,  and  cherry  mou; 

I  pree'd  it  .ft  as  }e  may  true"     .She  Paid,  ihe'd  tell  her  Mammy. 

I  held  her  to  my  beating  heart",  my  vounj*  nn   fmilin^  l.aramvl 
4 1  hue  a  houfe     it  coft  me  dear, 
I  vc  walth  o*  pleniiphan  and  geer; 
"Ye'f«  get  it  a   wVt  fen  times  niair,  gin  ye  will  leave  vr)l(r  M«,nn$* 

The  fm.i.  gade-  aff  her  bonny  face     J'l  manna     kau  my  Mammy. 
oh&s  geen  me  meat;  fhe's  geen  me  claife; 
"She's  been  m\  comfort  a*  niv  days 

'%  Fathers  death  brought  rnony  wae  *      I  can.,    leave  my  Mam.,  v  . 

"We'll  tak  hem  h:un<   and  m,     her  fain,  my  ain  kind  hearted  Laminvi 

V\e  11  gee  her  ment;  wr'l!  gee  her  ciatfe, 
"We'll  be  her  romfoii   ,i"  h<->v  days';' 

The  wee  thing  vi\s  her  hand  and  fays  'There!  and  afk  my  Mamim  " 

Has  fhe  been  to  Kirk  wi'  the*  niv  hn>  Tunny? 
She  h.<8  been  to  Kirk  hi'  me. 
And  the  tear  was  in  her  ee, 

Nu«  Oh!  fhe s  but  a  young  thing  juO  conn   frae  her  Mammy! 


Red  gleams  the  fun. 


P 


^30(3  A  *      ^C(^   gl^anis  the    fun   on  yon    hill    trip    the    dew  fits 


'Lively 


O-r  

m  1 

t  1 

i 

i  ] 

r 



on    the    gowan;   Deep    murmurs     thro    her   glens    the    Spey,     A  ^ 


'^y  '       ir   7  p.  "TV 

-<        .round    Kin  .  ra_ra    rowan.     Where     art     thou    faireft,  kindeft 


i 


i 


lafs!     A  -  las     wort    thou    but     near    ipe,       1  hy      gen  .  tli 


J  i-ii 

J.    .....  J~   .  X_jL  ^ 

f   p    — ~v  r  i*~  3  — — -  II  i— i — » 

*         foul,    thy  me 
P>        1   « 

3    9  •       x    v  y       »  - — ■ — *■  

_  tin/?  eve    would    ever   ever    cheer  me. 

1 ,       j  ,|J3  1  f 

The  Lavnx  k  fings  amang  the  clouds, 

The  Lambs  they  fport  fo  cheer), 
And  I.  fit    weeping  by  the  birk; 

0  where  art  thou  my  dearie! 
At!  ma\   I  meet  the  morning  dew; 

Lang  greet  tili  I  be  weajpy  / 
Ihou  carina,  winna,  gentle  maid! 

1  hou  catv  a  be  my  doary- 


Q  ftcer  her  up  and  be  na  b*ate, 

An  gin  fhr  tak  if  ill,  jo. 
Then  We  the  lafhit  till  her  fate, 

And  time  nae  laager  fpill,  jo! 
Neer  break  your  ieart  for  a^.  rebutc, 

But  think  upon  it  ftiIl,jo, 
That  gin  the  fcfsi«  wjnn;, 

Ml  fm  anirhcr  will,  jo. 


When  I  gaed  to  the  mill. 


521 


*    When    *  gaed 


Lively 


r  S"ae<*    *°    tile   mill  lane,  A*'  for  to  grind  my 


<        maut    Tie    mill_er  1 


id. ._  die  kift 


was      nae      faut.  What    tW    the      lad  .  die  kift 


O  1  loo  the  miller  laddie -l 

And  my  I  add  if  foes  me; 

Tfe  has  fir  a  blytb  |aok, 

And  a  honnie  blinking  ee. 

What  though  the   lad  lie  kift  me 

When  I  was  at  th$.  mill  J 

A  kifs  is  but  a  touch 

And  a  touch  can  do  nae  ill. 


$22 


VShar'Esk  its   silver  stream 


i 


^      Whar*  Esk  its  silver    current  leads  mang  greenwoods  gay  vv 


— @!  — 

 r — 

[-©  « 

mony  a  flower  I    hied  me  aft  to    dewy  meads  in    hap__pv  davs  and 

^  ■  j— * 


built  my  bower.     I     call  d  upon  the  birds  to  sing  \n  nestle  in  iU 


n 


fragrant  flower,  v\hile  in  the  livry  of  the  spring  1  deckd  my  tweet  en 


4 


P 


Twaai  there  I  found  ah!  happy  time. 
The  sweetest  flower,  and  sic  a  flower 
l  crop't  it  in  its  virgin  prime 
To  deck  my  sweet,  my  shady  bowtr 
lii.it  soon  the   Mast  houfri  in  tin  air 
That  robbd  me  of  this  matchless  flower 
\n'  sorrow  since  and  mony  a  e»r< 
fla\  stript  hi  i  withered  a  my  bower.. 


Tho'  for  seven  years. 


c507"S  *      Tho*  for  seven  years  and  tnair  honour  shoud   reave  me 


Mod  .  rately  Sl< 


*J       To  fields  where  cannons  ratrthoti  need  na  grieve  thee:  For  deep 


Co  fit  i  nued . 


I 


spirits  thy  sweets  are  indented.  And  love  shall,  preserve  ay  what  love  has 


m 


Chorus 


imprinted,  Leave  thee  leave  thee  I'll  never    leave  thee  gang  the  warld 

I    m         ,  I  I  I  :  ,  


it     will     dear  _  est      he  _  lieye 


me 


N  V  LLY, 

O  Johryi  I'm  jealous  whene'er  ye  discover 
My  sentiments  yielding,  ye'l J  turn  a  loo^e  rover; 
And  nought  i'  the  warld  wad  vex  my  heart  sairer 
If  you  prove  unconstant,  and  fancy  ane  fairer. 
Grieve  me,  grieve  me,  oh  it  wad  grieve  mel 
A' the  lang  night  and  daj ,  if  you  deceive  me. 

JOHN  V. 

My  Nelly*  let  nrvor  sick  fancies  oppress  ye, 
For  while  my  bloods  warm  kindly  caress  ye: 

Your  blooming  saft  beauties  first  beeted  Love's  fire, 
Your  virtue  and  wit  make  it  ay  flame  the  higher, 
Leave  thee,  leave  thee,  I'll  never  leave  thee, 
Gang  the  warld  as  it  will,  dearest,  believe  me. 

WELLY. 

Then,Johnv,  1  frankly  this  minute  allow  ye 
To  think  me  your  mistress,  for  love  gars  me  trow  \ 
And  gin  you  prove  fa\se,  to  yeYstllbe  it  said  then; 
Ye'll  win  but  sma'  honour  to  wrang  a  kind  maiden. 
Heave  me,  reave  me,  Heav'nsi  it  wad  reave  me 
Of  my  rest  night  and  day,  if  ye  deceive  me. 

JOHN  Y. 

Hid  leeshogle-s  hammer  red  gads  on  the  studdy, 
And  fair  simmer  mornings  nae  mair  appear  ruddy; 
Bid  Britons  think  ae  gait,  and  when  ..they  obey  ye, 
But  never  till  that  time  believe  Hi  betray  ye. 
Leave  thee,  leave  thee,  I'll  never  leave  thee; 
The  starns  shall  gang  withershins  eVr  I  deceive  thee. 


5^1 


Row  fnftly,  thou  ftreain, 


v503^  *    RowsStly;  thou  ftream,thro  the  wild  fpangfd  valley,  O  green  be  thy 


m  if  *r  r 


i 


•  0- 


ftrangers  to  (brrow  an  ftrangers  to  care.  The  weary  day  lang  I  lift  to  your 


EH 


An  waffe  ilka  moment  fad  cheerlefs  alanc;  Each  feet  little  treafure  o1 


weei  n trie 


m 


h  en  rt -cheering  pleafure,  Far' fled  frae  mv  bofom  wi'  Captain  O'Kaine, 

0  .  ~  *  


i 


Ku*  aft  on  thy  banks  ha'e  we  pu*d  the  wild  gowan. 
An  twjftecl  a  "ringlet  beneath  the  haw  thorn! 
Ah!  then  each  fond  moment  wi*  plea  Aire  was  glowin! 
.Sweet  days  o  delight  which  can  never  return! 

Now  ever,  wae's  me! 

The  tear  fills  mine  e'fc. 
An  fair  is  my  heart  wi*  the  rigour  o,pain! 

Nae  profprct  returning 

To'  gladden  life's  morning, 
tor  ^reen  waves  the  willow  o'er  Captain  Q*Kaine! 


An  I  v  >  lit  o'er  frCc 


5*5 


509<T*      As  1  **nt  °,fr  tlie  highland  hills  fa  *  farmers  houst  I  ran  e  Th 
A  little  Slow 


I  was  kind  -  K    treated    and   a      pret  _  ty     maid     I       spvd.  Who 


I  rourted  her  the  lea  long  night. 
Till  near  the  dawning  day 
When  frankly  she  to  me  did  say, 
Alang  with  you  I'll  gae; 
For  Irctand  is  a  fine  coun.tr>  4 
An  the  Scots  trt  you  are  '^.in*, 
So  I  will  gae  alang  with  you, 
My  fortune  to  begin. 

Day  being  come,' an  breakfast  o'er, 

To  parlour  I  was  ta'eri, 

The  woodman  kindly  ask'd  me, 

If  1(1  marry  his  daughter  Jean? 

Five  hundred  marks  Pi  I  give  to  thee, 

Besides  a  piere  of  land, 

But  scarcely  had  he  spoke  the  word, 

Till  I  thought  on  Peggy  Bawn. 


Your  offer  Sir!  is  very  good, 
An  I  thank  yoi.  too:  said  f, 
But  T  cannot  be  your  son  in  law, 
1*11  tell  you  the  reason  why; 
My  business  calleth  me  in  haste 
I'm  the  Kings  servant,  hound, 
An"  I  must  gae  away  this  day, 
ft  night  on,  to  Edinburgh  town. 

Ol  Peggy  Bawn  thou  art  my  own, 
My  heart  lys  in  thy  breast, 
An*  tho*  we  at  a  distance  are, 
Yet  still  I  love  thre  best; 
Altho*  wt  at  a  distance  be, 
\ri  seas  between  us  roar; 
Yet  I'll  be  constant,  V^g^y  Bawn, 
lo  thee,  for  ever  more. 


&6 


O   Cherub  Content 


But  thy  prefence  appears  from  my  purfuit  to  fly, 
Like  the  gold  colourd  cloud  on  the-  verge  of  the  flty; 
No  luftre  that  hangs  on  the  green  willow  tree 
Fs  fo  fhort  as  the  fmile  of  thy  favour  to  me. 

In  the  pulfe  of  my  heart  I  have  nourifh'd  a  care 
That  forbids  me  th\*  fweet  infpiration  to  fharej 
f'he  noon  of  my  youth  flow  departing  I  fee; 
But  its  years  as  they  pafs  bring  no  tidings  of  thee. 

O  Cherub  contentl  at  thy  mofs-cover'd  fhrin* 
T  would  offer  my  vows  if  Matilda  were  mine; 
Could  I  call  her  my  own  whom  enraptur'd  I  fee, 
f  would  breathe  not  a  vow  but  to  friendship  and  thee, 

As  walking  forth, 


-cd     In  raiment  feirAnoy.  eyVv  thing  the  rage  of  winter  feer 


no^ 


■mi  m 


Continued. 


drawing  nigh  L  heard  him  crv,  Ah:  omnia   vm    cit  a 


Earn 


Upon  his  breaft  he  lay  along, 

Hardl  by  a  munnring  river, 
And  mournfully  his  doleful  fong 

With  fighs  he  did  deliver; 
Ah!  Jeanys  face  has  comely  grace, 

Her  locks  that  fhine  like  lammer, 
With  burning  rays  have  cut  my  da)  s ; 

For  omnia  vincit  amor. 

Her  glancy  r.en  like  comets  fheen, 

The  morning -fun  out/fining, 
Have  caught  my  heart  in  Cupids  net, 

And  make  me  die  with  pining. 
Durft  I  complain, nature's  to  blame, 

•So  curiousfy  to  frame  her, 
vVhofe  beauties  rare  make  me  with  care 

Cry,  omnia  vincit  amor. 

Ye  cryftal  ftreams  that  (wiftly  glide, 

Be  partners  of  my  mourning, 
Ye  fragrant  fields  and  meadows  wild, 

Condemn  her  for  her  fcorning: 
Let  every  tree  a  witnefs  be, 

How  Juftly  I  may  blame  her; 
Yr  chanting  birds,  note  thefe  my  words, 

Ahi  omnia  vincit  amor. 

Had  f  n»  been  kind  as  (he  was  fair, 
She  Jong  had  been  admired, 

And  been  adorcl  for  virtues  rare, 
Wh*  of  life  now  makes  me  tired. 


**53 — i 

Thus  fa  id,  his  breath  began  to  fail 
He  could  not  /peak*  but.  ftammer; 

He  figh'd  full  fore,' and  faid  no  mot  e, 
But  omnia  vincit  amor. 

When  1  obfervel  him  near  to  death, 

I  run  in  haft  to  fave  him, 
But  quickly  he  re(ign*d  his  breath, 

So  deep  the  wound  love  gave  him. 
Now  for  her  fake  this  vow  I'll  make, 

My  tongue  fhall  ay  defame  her, 
While  on  his  hearfel'll  write  this  verfe, 

Ah!  omnia  vincit  amor. 

Straight  I  confider'd  in  my  mind 

CTpon  the  matter  right ly, 
And  found  tho  Cupid  he  be  blind, 

He  proves  in  pith  molt  mighty. 
For  warlike  Mars,  and  thurxlVing  Jove, 

And  Vulcan  with  his  Hammer, 
Did  ever  prove  the  flaves  of  love 

For  omnia  vincit  amor 

Hence  we  may  fee  th'  effects  of  love, 

Which  gods  and  men  keep  under, 
That  nothing  can  his  bonds  remove, 

Or  torments  break  afunder! 
Nor  wife  nor  fool,  need  go  to  fchool, 

To  learn  this  from  his  grammar; 
His  hearts  the  book  where  he*s  to  look. 

For  omnia  vincit  amor. 


The  Battle  of  Harlaw  * 


■v5l2*v  *  Fra€  Dunid 

ier  as  I  cam  through,  Doun  by  the  hill  o'  Ranochie,  A 


~*/     noys  and  du 

If  sum  harmonie.That  e'er  that  dr 

eiry  day  did  daw,  Cry- 

 "T" — 5 — hr~ — 5 

'  "    •  T 

f  marvlit  quhat  the  matter  meint,  Grit  Donald  of  the  Yles  d'id  claim, 

All  folks  war  in  a 'fiery  fairy:  Unto  the  lands  of  Ross  sum  richt, 

I  wist  nocht  qua  was  fax-  or  friend;     And  to  the  Governour  Q  he  came, 
Zit  quietly  I  did  me  cart  ie.  Thaim  for  to  half  gif  that  he  micht; 

Hut  sen  the  days  of  auld  kin#  Hairie,    Quha  saw  his  interest  was  hut  sficht: 
Sir  slaughter  was  not  horde  nor  sene,      And  thairfore  answort  with  disdain; 


And  thair  I  had  nae  tyme  to  tairy, 
For  bissiness  in  Aherdene. 

Thus  as  I  walk  it  On  the  Way, 

To  liivcrury  as  1  Went, 
I  met  a  "m  in,  and  bad  him  stay. 

Requesting  him  to  make  me  quaint. 
Of  the  "beginning  and  the  event, 

That  happen  it  thair  at  the  Harlaw; 
Then  he  entrited  mo  tjk  tent, 

And  he  the  truth  -sou Id  tomechaw. 


He  hastit  hame  haith  day  and  nicht, 
And  sent  nae  bodward  hack  again. 

But  Donald  richt  impatient 

Of  that  answer  Duke  Kobert  gaif. 
He  vowed  to  God  omnipotent. 

All  the  hale  lands  of  Moss  to  haif, 
Or  ells  be  graithed  in  his  graif. 

He  wald  not  quat  his  richt  for  norht. 
Nor  he  abusit  lyk  a  slaif, 

That  bargtn  sould  be  dcirly  borhtA'c. 


£  Fought  upon  Jriday,  July  24;  1411,  against  Donald  of  the  Isles. 


#  Robert  Duke  of  Albany,  uncle  to  King  James  1,  The  account  of  this 
famous  battle  may  be  seen  in.  our  Scots  histories. 


O  BothweH  bank. 


4«9 


313 


O  Bothwell  bank  thou  bloomeft    fair,    But    ah  thou 


f 


Slow 


m 


*J        makst  my  heart  fu   fair,  For  a  beneath  thy  woods   fae  green 


as 


w 


wad    fit  at    een    While  daiftes  and  primrofes 
t    T        '  ■  :  


mixt  wi*  blue  bells   in    my   locks    he  fixt,     O     Both _ well 


m 


bank  thou  bloomeft  fair  But  ah  thou  mak'st  my  heart  fu  ( 


m 


m 


Sad  he  lexi  me   ae  dreary  day, 
And  haplie  now  fleeps  in  the  clay-, 
Without  ae  figh  his  death  to  moan, 
Without  ae  flow'r  his  grave  to  crown. 
O  nhither  is  my  lover  gone, 
Alas  I  fear  he'll  ne'er  return. 
O  Bothwell  bank  thou  bloomtft  fair. 
But  ah  thou  makVt  my  heavt  fu*  fair. 


.530 


.     Wee  Willie  Gray 
Written  for  this  Work  by  -ft.  Burns. 


^514    -<Hfr  We  e 


Wee  Willy  Gray  and  his  leather  wallet; 
T^ice  a  lily-flower  will  be  him  fark  and  cravat; 
Feathers  of  a  flee  wad  feather  up  hia  bonnet, 
Jbather.  of  a  fie.  wad  feather  up  hia  bonnet. 

When  tke  day*  ttej  are  lang. 


Continued 


531 


There*  mony  a  tiU}  come  in  on  the  fcore,  FA  lal,  Ac 
Wi»  galloping  graith,clad  ahint  an'  afore,  Fal  Ul,fcc.  ' 

Our  ancient  Wager  for  to  win, 

The  Prize  nae  Icfs  than  forty  pun; 

To  fee  them  is  the  beft  o  fun,  Fal  lal4&c. 

The  rout  the  town  officers  held  at  command,  Fal  hi  Ac 
An  Bailheg  wi'  halberts  weel  fcourd,  in  their  hand,  Fal  la!  Ac 
To^  clear  the  courfe,  the  caufe  was  gude, 
An  guide  th.e  rabble,  wild  an  rude, 
For  ilka  ane  on  tip-tae  ftood,  Fal  lal,  Ac. 

Now  Kirkfield  frac  braw  Lcfmahago  came,  Fal  lal,  Ac. 
Our  filler,  nae  doubt,  for  to  tak  wi'  him  ham*  Fal  lal  fcc. 

But  tho'  he  cam  wi'  noife  an'  din, 

The  beaft  was  unco  Iaith  to  rin; 

In  fhort  the  lad  was  ahin,  Fal  lal  Ac. 

An'  Glentowins  horfe,  he  was  fairly  out -worn.  Fal  lal  Ac 
That  morning  he  gat  a  haill  firlet  o  corn,  Fal  lal  &e. 

His  groom  kept  him  but  carelefsly; 

't  ho',  had  he  fed  him  foberly 

'Twas  thought  he  wad  hae  won  the  gree,  Fal  'al  Ac. 

Hut  Kingledores  mare,  fhe  brak  aff  at  the  firft,  Fal  lal  Ac. 

Sax  paces  an  mair  afore  a  the  reft,  Fal  lal  Ac, 
•She  was  f«e  fupple  an  fae  ft»«t, 
She  led  the  lav©  a*  round  about, 
An  cam  in  firft  -at  flie  gade  out,  la!  lal  Ac. 

Now  Glentowins^  horfe,  he  could  do  nae  mair,  ft  1  lal  Ac. 

An  Kirkiiels,oer  heavy  to  hac  ony  fhare,  Fal  lal  Ac, 
•Sae  Kingledore's  brown  bonny  mare, 
Set  aff  wi'a*  our  dainty  gea* 
An  caper'd  croufly  thro'  the  fair  Fal  lal  Ac. 


The  banks   of  the  Dee. 


sw 


Twa8  fummer  and  foftly  the  breezes  were  blowing-  <t  fweetly 


I 


§ 


si. 


^hH^r^  J  j  ji  j.  j j  J' 

the  nig4iti«gMe  fu^g  from  the  tree  at  the  foot  of j*  rock  where  tl  r:ve» 


river  was 


si 


flowing  I  fet  my /elf  down  on  the  banks  of  the  Dee.  Flow  on  lovely  Dee  flowon  thou 


f-f— fit 


i 


— ^  v-^-y  ■ — p  y — r  ■  "  W  0  ' — V  **  Y~ 

fweet  river"*thy  banks  pwreft  ftreain  fhall  be  dear  to  me  ever  for  there   I  firft 


gaind  the  affection  and  favour  oi 


m 


gaind  the  affection  and  favour  of  Jamie  the  glory  &  pride  of  the  Dee. 


But  now  he's  gone  from  me  and  left  me  thus  mourning, 

To  quell  the  proud  rebels,  for  valiant  is  he, 

And  ah  there's  no  hope    of  hip  fpeedy  returning, 

To  wander  again  on  the  banks  of  the  Dee. 

\\*s  gone,  h&plefs  youth, oYr  the  loud  roaring  billows 

The  kindeft  and  fweeteft  of  a  I '  the  gay  fellows, 

And  left  me  to  ftray  mong'st  thefc  once  loved  willow*, 

The  lonelieft.  maid  on  the  banks  of  the  Dee. 

But  time  and  my  prayers  may  perhaps  yet  reftore  him, 
b*Ieft  peace  may  reftore  my  dear  fhepherd  to  me, 
And  when  he  returns  with  fuch  care  I'll  watch  o'er  him. 
He  never  fhall  leave  the  fweet  banks  of  the  Dee. 
The  Dee  then  fhall  flow,  all  its  beauties  difp!a\ing, 
The  lambs  on  its  banks  fhall  again  be  feen  playing, 
While  I  with  my  Jamie  am  carelessly  ftraying, 
And  tafting  again  all  the  fleets  of  the  Dee. 


Mb 


Scenes  of  woe  and  scene*  of  pleasure^ 
VVritter  by   K.  burns. 


1  and     last  adieu.      Hon  _  ny   Doon,   s'ae,    sweet  at 

^E^pEl_r  1  '  j  LL 


ear  _  l>-  roam   ing,   First    f    weav'd    the     rus  _  tic  sang 


Bowers  adieu;  where  love  decoying, 
First  enthralfd  tlii.s  heart  o"  mine, 
There  the  saftes*  sweets  cnjfy  ing, 
•Sweets  that  memVy  ne'er  shall  (ine. 
"r  lends  so  near  my  bosom  ever, 
Ve  hae  render'!  moments  dear; 
Hut  alas!  when  forc'd  to  sever, 
Then  the  stroke,  O  how  severed 


friends, that  parting  tear  reserve  it,  ' 
Tho'  tis  doubly  dear  to  me; 
Could  I  think  T  did  deserve  it, 
How  much  happier  wou«l  I  be. 
•Scenes  ot  woe  and  Scenes  of  pleasim 
Scenes  that  former  thought  renew; 
Scents  of  woe  and  Scenes  of  pleas  uu 
Now  a  sad  and  last  adieu. 


Go  to  Kerwick  Johnny 


-jg — 0   —  •  1  ■ ;  *  y*  t    ■  jg — 

<5l8  ^c  to  ^erw*c^  Johnny  bring  her  frae  the  border  yx>n  fweet 


Livel} 


•dei 


bonnie  lafsie,  let  her  gae  nae  farder.  Englifh  louns  will  twine  je  o*  the 


m 


«-/      i,.^..  trenfure  but  well  let  them  ken  a  fword  wi*  them  well  meafure. 


lovely 


00  to  Berwick  Johnny, 
An*  re£ain*your  honour 
Drive  them  o'er  the  Tweed, 
An'  fhaw  our  ScottiOi  banner. 

1  am  Rah  the  Kin/.*, 

An1  ye  are  Jock  my  brithcr, 
Hut  before  we  lofe  her. 
We'll  a  there  the  gither. 

Tlvas  ?it  the  fhining  uoid  chy  hour. 


^5 If)  -y^     "Twm  at  the  fhrnin£    mid   day  hour,    When    all  be 


a 


A  1  ittW  lively 


w&l  <r 

gaunt  1 

hat  hunger,  ruggd    at    Wat    ty§  breast,  And 

Continued. 


mm 


the  poor  lad  grew    faint.        His    face     was     like    a  bacon 


r  ■  e  i  r  1  U-  P  v  Pg 

ham.  That   lang    in    reek    had     hung     and  horn 


hard    was  his 


*- 

H^f-f-H^ 

ij'-r-r  — 

gig 


tawny  hand 


That 

□err 


held    the     ha  _  zel 


run« 


•So  wad  the  foftc  ft  fare  appear 

Of  the  maift  drtfsv  fpark 
And  fuch  the  hands  that  lords  wad  hae, 

Were  they  kept  clofe  at  wark . 
His  head  was  like  a  heathen  bull] 

Beneath  his  bonnet  blue, 
On  his  braid  ch<  eks  frae  lug  to  lug, 

His  bairdy  briftles  grew. 
But  hunger,  like  a  gnawing  worm, 

find*-  rum Hfing  thro*  bis  kyte, 
And  nothing  now  but  folid  gear 

Could  give  his  heart  delyte. 
He  to  the  kitchen  ran  with  fpeed, 

To  his  lov'd  Madge  h«  ran, 
Sunk  down  into  the  chimney  nook 

With  vifage  four  and  wan. 
Get  up,  he  cries,  my  crifhy  Jove, 

Support  my  finking  Oiui 
With  ibmething  that  is  fit  to  rhew, 

Bet  either  het  or  caul. 
This  is  the  how  and  hunfrr\  hour, 

When  the  beft  cures  for  grief 
Are  cogue  -fous  of  thy  Mhy  kail, 

And  a  good  junt  of  beef* 
Oh  Watty,  Watty,  Madge  replies, 

I  but  oer  juftl)  trowc! 
Your  lore  was  thowle^s  and  that  ye 

For  cakr*end  pudding  woocl. 
Bethink  the*, Watty  on  that  night, 

Wh»n  all  were  Mt  afleep, 


How  ye  kifs'd  me  frae  cheek  to  cheek 

Now  leave  thefe  cheeks  to  dreep, 
How  coud  ye  ca  mv  hurdies  fat, 

And  comfort  of  \  our  fight? 
How  cou *d  ye  rooft  my  dimple^  hand, 

Now  all  my  dimples  flight? 
Why  did  you  promife  me  a  {hood, 

To  bind  my  locks  fae  brown? 
Whv  did  you  roe  fine  garters  height, 

Yet  let  my  hole  fa*  down! 
O  faithlefs  Watty  think  how  aft 

I  mend  your  farks  and  hofel 
For  you  how  many  bannocks  ftov>n, 

How  many  cogues  of  brofe: 
But  hark!    the  kail  bell  rings  and  I 

Maun  gae  link  aff  the  pe  t; 
Come  foe, ye  iiaih,  how  fair  I  fweat, 

To  ftegh  your  guts, ye  fot, 
The  grace  was  faid,the  Maffer  ferv'd, 

Fat  Madge  return 'd  again, 
%'th  Watty  raife  and  rax'd  him  fell, 

And  fidgci  be  was  fie  fain. 
He  hy'd  him  to  the  favoury  bench, 

WThere  a  warm  haggies  ftood, 
And  gart  his  gdoly  thro'  the  bag 

Let  out  its  fat  hearts  blood. 
And  thrice  he  cry 'd,come  eat,dear  Madge 

Of  this  cfelicious  fare; 
■Syne  claw  (J  it  aff  moft  clever  fy. 

Till  he  could  eat  nai  mair. 


H  ive  you  any  Pots  or  Pans  r 

•See    another  set  of  this  Tune  Vol.  if  ?age  24 


am  a  tinker  to   my  trade   And  new  _  ly    come  frae  Kl?nde?s.  As 


mm 


scant  of  sailor  as   of  grace,  Dis  _  banded,  weV    a     had    run'  Ga 


"\      ,fl1    f},fl    '  "^    °*    tHe  place,  I'm   come  to  clout  her  ^IdrmT 


Madam,  if  you  have  wark  for  mr. 

i'll  do*t  to  your  contentment, 
An<i  dinna  care  a  single  iiie 

f'or  any  man's  resentment; 
►«r  lady  fair,  though  I  appear 

To  tvry  ane  a  tinker, 
v<t  to  yoiirseM  I'm  bauld  to  tell, 

I  am  a  Lentil  [inker. 

Love  Jupiter  into  a  n 

Turn'd  for  his  lovely  l.eda; 

lf<   lik*-  a  bull  o'er  meadow*;  ran, 
To  carry  aff  Curopa. 


Then  may  not  I,  as  well  as  he, 
To  cheat  your  Argus  blinker, 

And  win  your  love  like  mighty  Jove, 
Thus  hide  me  in  a  tinkler. 

.Sir,  ye  appear  a  cunning  man, 

But  this  fine  plot  \  ou'll  fail  in, 
M»r  there  is  neither  pot  nor  pan 

Ot  mine  you'll  drive  a  nail  in. 
Then  bind  y  our  budget  on  your  back, 

And  nails  up  in  y  our  apron, 
Kor  I've  . a  tinkler  under  tack 

I  hat's  us'd  to  clout  my  caldron. 


Now  bank  an  brae. 


5Joi 


<3*21  ^ow  °ank  an>  ^rae   are  claithcl  rn  green   an  fcattcrc! 


cowf-lips    fweet-ly  iping  by  Gir_van*   f»i    ty    haun  ted 


9  V-  -r 

 w*r 

r^Jfjj  j.iritfryj 

S 

ft  r  riic 

fek-J  .  r  i 

hirdi< 

m 

3S  1  f it   on   wanton  wing            (  ai^i  11  is  banks 

*hen 

ceding  fain  there         my  Ma_rv  3«t  me  flee   there  catch  her 


yv/        :i  l...    _fT~„  ...     v-   k  ki;„v    *  VI..  ,T* 


The  chield  wha  boafts  o  warlds  walth, 

la  after)  laird  o*  meikle  care; 
hut  Mary  she  is  a'  min<5  ain, 

Ahl  Fortune  canna  gie  me  mairl 
Then  let  me  range  by  CalfilljjB  banks, 

V\i'  her  the  Jaffie  dear  to  me, 
And  catch  her  ilka  glance  o'  love, 

The  bonny  blink  o*  Marys  ee  . 


638 


Ae  day  a  braw  wooer,  &C#. 


A  weel  stocket  mailen  himsel  o*t  the  laird, 
An*  bridal  aff  han'  was  the  proffer, 

I  never  loot  on,  that  I  ken  a"  or  1  car'd, 
But  thought  I  might  get  a  waur  offer. 

He  spake  o*  the  darts  o*  my  bonny  black  een, 

.  An*  o  for  my  love  he  was  diein; 
I  said,  he  might  die  when  he  liket  for  Jean, 
The  gude  forgie  me  for  liein*. 

But  what  do  ye  think,  in  a  fortnrght  or  less, 
(The  ditls  in  his  taste  to  gae  near  her) 

He's  down  to  the  castle  to  black  cousin  Kess, 
Think  how  the  jade  I  cou'd  endure  her. 

An  a*  the  nicst  ouk  as  I  freted  wi'  care, 
I  gade  to  the  tryst  o'  Dulgarlock; 

An  wha  but  my  bra*  fickle  wooer  was  there, 
VV'ha  glowrci  as  if  he'd  seen  a  warlock. 


Continued. 


539 


Out  owre  my  left  shouther  I  gie*d  him  a  blink, 

Lest  neighbour  shoud  think  I  was  saucy; 
My  wooer  he  caperd  as  heel  been  in  drink. 

An  vow*d  that  I  was  a  dear  lassie. 

I  Spier'd  for  my  cousin,  fu*  couth ie  an*  sweet, 

An  if  she'd  recover'd  her  hearing 
An  how  .  my  auld  ft  shoon  fitted  her  shachefd  feet 

Gude  saf  *  us  how  he  fell  a  swearin*. 

He  beggrJme  for  gudesake  that  I'd  be  his  wife, 

Or  else  I  wad  kill  him  wi'  sorrow; 
An*  just  to  preserve  the  poor  bodie  /in  life, 

I  think  I  will  wed  him  to  morrow. 

•3*  An  ok!  lover. 

To  the  Foregoing  Tune, 

^  I  ''HE  Queen  o'  the  Lothians  cam  cruisin  to  Fife 

Fal  de  ral,  lal  de  ral,  lairo,  - 
To  see  gin  a  wooer  wad  tak  her  for  life, 

Sing  hey,  fal  laj  de  ral,  lal  de  ral,  lal  de  ral, 

He),  fal  lal  de  ral,  lairo. 
She  had  na  been  lang  at  the  brow  o*  the  hill,  Fal  <^c 
Till  Jockie  cam  downfor  to  visit  LochrieJI,  Sing  hey,  fal  *£r. 
He  took  the  aunt  to  the  ncuk  o'  the  ha*,      Fal  ffce. 
Whare  naebody  heard,  and  whare  nae  body  saw,      Sing  hr:    fal  Ace. 
Madam,  he  says,  l*ve  thought  on  your  advice      Fal  &c. 

1  wad  marry  your  niece,  but  I*m  fley*d  she'll  be  nice,  Sing  hey  ft  I 

Jockie,  she  says,  the  wark*s  done  to  your  hand,  _  Fal  &c. 

I've  spoke  to  my  niece,  and.  she's  at  your  command,  —  Sing  he)  fiil&c. 

But  troth,  Madam,!  canna  woo,  _  Fal  &c. 

For  aft  I  hae  tried  it,  and  ay  I  fa*  thro*  —  Sing  hey  fal  &c. 

But,0  dear  Madam,  and  ye  wad  begin  _  Fal  <tc. 

For  Tm  as  fley*d  to  do  it,  as  it  were  a  sin,  _Sing  hey  fal  %Zc. 

Jenny  cam  in,  and  Jockie  ran  out,       lal  &c. 

Madam,  she  says,  what  hae  ye  been  srbout,  —  Sing  hey  fal  &:c. 

Jeiiny,  she  says,  I've  been  workin  for  you,  _  Fal  tec. 

Yor  what  do  ye  think,  Jock ie's  come  here  to  woo,  __Sing  hey  fal  <V 

Now  Jenny  tak  care,  and  dash  na  the  lad,      Fal  tec. 

For  offers  like  him  are  na  ay  to  be  had,  _Sing  hey  fal  tec. 

Madam,  i!ll  tak  the  advice  o*  the  wise,  __Fal  tec. 

I  ken  the  lad's  worth,  and  I  own  he's  a  prize,  _Smg  hey  Fal  *£e. 

Then  she  cries  but  the  house, Jockie  come  here,  —  Fal  Hie. 

Ye've  neathing  to  do  but  the  question  to  spier,     Sin^  hey  fal  tec. 

The  question  was  spier'd,  and  the  bargain  was  struck,  _  Fal  te c. 

The  neebors  cam  in,  and  wish*d  them  gude  luck,  _  Sin^;  hey  fal  tec. 


Our    houfe    at    hame,  We're 


a    nod  ^ din     yfikt     nid    nod ._  din 

=.  rf3 1  n 


m 


k  y  b  3  j  J 


we're    a'    nod  -  din    at     our    houfc   at  hame/ 


Kate  fits  f  the  neuk, 

iSuppin  hen  broo; 
Deil  tak  Kate 

An'  fhe  be  na  noddin  tool 
We're  a'  noddin  fee. 

Hows  a*  wT  you,  Ki mmer, 

.  And  how  do  ye  fare? 
A  (pint  o'  the  beft  o't, 
And  twa  pints  mair. 
We're  S  noddin  fee. 

How  b  a'  wi*  )  ou,  kimmer, 
And  how  do  ye  thrive; 
How  mony  bairns  hae  ye? 


Quo'  kimmer,  I  hae  five, 
We're  a*  noddin  fe 

Are  they  a*  Johnys? 

Ehl  atweel  no: 
Twa  o  them  were  gotten 

W[hen  Johny  was  awa . 
We're  a'  noddin  fee. 

Cats  like  milk 

And  doga  like  broo; 
Lads  like  lafses  wee  I, 

And  lafges  lads  too. 
We're  a*  noddin  fee. 


In  Brechin  did  a  wabster  dwell. 


6*1 


41     In  Krechin  did  a  wabstcr  dwell, Who  was  a  man  o  fame  o, 


»are  lie  had  a     lus^ty  jade,  Kaith  wtur<fy,  stark,  and  sprang  "Zl 


lusty  trusty  skie^h  y  ounjj  yad.  An    he  had  spar'd  her   tang  o. 


The  wabster  bade  ht«»  mare  go  work.     They  clipped  her,  and  nipped  her. 

They  tOr>k  from  her  the  skin; 
The  haunches, and  the  paunches, 

They  quickly  brought  them  in: 
Make  haste,  dame,  said  he, 

And  wash  this  grease, and  dry't, 
For  !  will  hazard  on  n :\  life, 


Quoth  *h^«  I  am  not  able, 
Vnr  neither  gret  !  <  orn  nor  hav, 

Vor  stan  i  \  fn  a  «tabl«  ; 
Kut  hunt*  ir#>,  and  d<irjt*  me. 

And  din&?x  nit  from  tfe  town, 
And  fell'*  me  4  and  Uj^me, 

f  am  not  wor?h  my  mom. 

The  wabster  tworc  a  bloody  oath. 

And  out  he  drew  a  knife. 
If  one  word  ron.e  out  of  thy  h»  ;«<>, 

I  vow  Til  take  thy  life. 
Tht:  mart  ay,  for  fear  ay, 

Jell  fainting  to  the  ground, 
And  trroan inland  moaning, 

Jell  m  a  deadly  swoon. 


The  doctor's  wife  . will  buyY 


They  rumblcl  her,  they  tumbfd  her. 

They  shot  her  o*er  the  j)rae: 
With  rumbling,  frnd  tumbling, 

•She  to  the  ground  did  gae. 
Hut  the  night  being  cauld, 

And  the  mare  wanting  her  skin, 
And  darkness  came  out  o'er  the  land, 

And  fain  wou*d  she  been  in.  &c, 
Atr.&c. 


542 


Willys  rare,  and  Willy's  fair 


rare,  and    Willys    fair.    And    Willy's    wond*_  rous 


Stowish 


b,pnni^>  and    Wi,!>    he?ht  t0    n,arr>    me    Sin    e'€r     he  marry'd 


■Yestreen  1  made  my  bed  fu'  brade,       Or  came  you  by  yon  meadow  green* 
The  night  I'fl  make  it  narrow;  Or  saw  you  my  sweet  Willy? 

lot  a'  the  live  lang  winter's  night 
I  lie  twin'd  of  my  marrow. 


O  came;  you  by  y  on  water  side, 
Fu'd  you  the  rose  or  (\\y; 


She  sought  him  east,  she  sought  him  nest) 

She  sought  him  brad  and  narrow; 
Sine  in  the  clifting  of  a  craig. 

She  found  him  drowncf  in  Yarrow. 


My  Daddy  left  me  8Cc. 


356'Vy*  daddy   left   me    gear  "enough  a     cou  _ter    and  an 


auld  beam  plough  a    nebbed  staff  a     nut?ing    tyne  a  fishinj 


Continued. 


543 


A  hf  mpken  heckle,  and  a  ^cl!, 
A  tar- horn,  and  a  weather  8  hell, 
A  muck  forVtantl  an  auld  peet  creel, 
The  spakes  of  our  auld  spinning  wheel, 
A  pair  of  bran  ks,  yea,  and  a  saddle, 
With  our  auld  brunt  and  broken  laddie, 
A  whang-bit,  and  «nifOe-bit; 
Chear  up,  my  bairns,  and  dance  a  fit. 

A  flailing -staff  and  a  timmer  spit, 
An  auld  kirn  and  a  hols  in  it, 
> am -winnles, and  a  reel, 
A  fetter -lock,  a  trump  of  steel, 
A  whistle,  and  a  tup  horn  spoon, 
With  an  auld  pair  of  clouted  shoon, 
A  timmer  rpade,  and  a  gleg  shear, 
A  bonnet  for  my  bairns  to  wear. 


With  an  auld  broken  pan  of  brass. 
With  an  auld  sark  that  wants  the  arse. 
An  auld4>and,tfnd  a  hoodling  how, 
I  hope,  my  bairns,  ye're  a  weil  now^. 

Aft  have  I  borne  ye  on  my  back, 
Writh  a*  this  riff-raff  in  my  park; 
And  it  was  a*  for  want  of  gear,. 
That  irart  me  steal  Mess  Johns  grey  map 
Hut  now,  my  bairns,  what  ails  ye  now 
Kor  y  e  ha*e  naigs  enough  to  plow; 
And  hose  and  shoon  fit  for  your  feet* 
Chear  up,  my  bairns,and  dinna  greet. 


A  timmer  tong.a  broken  cradle, 
Hit  pillions  of  an  auld  car-saddle, 
A  gullie-knife  and  a  horse -wand, 
A  mitten  for  tnr-  Ufr  hand. 


Then  with  mysel  Ididarbise, 
My  daddy's  tfear  for  to  comprise; 
Some  neighbours  I  ca'd  in  to  see 
What  gear  my  daddy  left  to  me. 
They  sat  three  quarters  of  a  year, 
Comprizing,  of  my  daddy's  gear; 
And  when  they  had  gi'en  a*  their  votes, 
Twas  scarcely  a'  worth  four  pounds  Boot* 


Stern  winter  has  left  na 


1lHH?te  I  Jl  I,  J  l|  , 

327  \*     Stern  winter  has  left  us,  the  trees  are  in  bloom,A£  cowslipefc 
Slowjsh    ^  I  I  I 


Jccky  Among  the  young  lilies,  my  Jenny,  iVe  stray  *d. 

Finks, daisies,  and  woodbines  T  bring  to  my  maid; 
Here's  thyme  sweetly  smelling,  and  lavender  gay, 
A  posy  to  form  for  my  Queen  of  the  May. 


A  hi  Jocky,  I  fear  you  intend  to  beguile. 
When  seated  with  Molly  last  night  on  a  siile. 
You  swore  that  you'd  love  her  for  ever  and  ay, 
Forgetting  poor  Jenny,  your  Queen  of  the  May. 

Jorky   Young  Willy  is  handsome  in  shepherds  green  dress. 
He  gave  you  these  ribbons  that  hang  at  your  breast. 
Besides  three  sweet  kisses  upon  the  new  hay; 
Was  that  dorle  like  Jenny,  the  Queen  of  the  Ma}'? 

Jenny   This  garland  of  roses  no  longer  I  prize, 

Since  Jocky,  false  hearted,  his  passion  denies: 
Ye  flowers  so  V) looming,  this  instant  decay. 
For  Jennys  no  longer  the  Queen  of  the  May. 

Jock^*   Believe  me,  dear  maiden,  your  lover  you  wrong, 
Your  name  is  for  ever  the  theme  of  my  song; 
from  the  dews  of  pale  eve'  to  the  dawning  of  day, 
I  sing  but  of  Jenny*  my  Queen  of  the  May. 

Jenny   Again,  balmy  comfort  with  transport  I  view. 
My  fears  nre  all  vanished  since  jocky  is  true; 
Then  to  our  blyth  shepherds  the  news  I'll  convey, 
t  hat  Jenny  alone  you've  crown'd  Queen  of  the  May. 

Jocky   Come  all  }e  young  lovers,  I  pray  yiu  draw  near, 
Avoid  all  suspicion,  whate're  may  appear; 
Believe  not  your  eyes,  lest  your  peace  they  betray. 
Then  come,  my  dear  Jenny,  and  hail  the  new  May., 


Jenny 


Stern  winter  has  left  ns.       Second  Sett. 

Jenn\ . 


528^*      StCTn    1%in-tcr    has    left    us,    the     trees     are  in 


Jen^ny  I've   stray'd,  Pmksj  daisies,  and  woodbines  I    bring  to  my 


m 


546 


Ah  Mary  sweetest  imid. 


k\e  are  drowmJ  oiy  house  is  down  my  last  vhtcp  lits  a  math  the  snaw. 

73E 


Continued . 


»>  He 
Ye  canna  thole  the  wind  and  rain,  Pardon  love'  twas  a'  a  snare 

Nof  wander  friendless  far  frae  hame:  The  flocks  are  safe  .we  needna  part: 
Cheer  cheer  y/>ur  heart  some  richer  swam, I'd  forfeit,  them  and  ten  times  mair," 
Will  soon  blot  out  lost  Willies  name.  S     To  clasp  thee. Mary,  to  my  heart.  ' 

She  She 

I'll  tak  my  bundle  in  my  hand  Could  ye  wi*  my  feelings  sport, 

And  wipe  the  dew^drap  frae  my  ee;  Or  doubt  a  heart  sae  warm  and  true? 

Ill  wander  w,'ye  o'er  the  land,  T  should  wish  mischief  on  ye  for'f 

11  Vcnturc  wlVe  o'er  the  fea.  But  canna  wish  ought  ill  to  )  on.  ' 

.Anna,  thy  Charms  my  bosom  fire. 


^are^    But  ah,  how  bootless  to  admire,  When  fat   ed  to  des  pair 


Written  for  this  Work  bv  Hobert  Burns 


V4H 


531 


Thy  cheek  is  o*  the  rosea  hue, 


Vhy  cheek  is  o*  the    roses  hue,  My   on_!y    joe  and 


dfcari&'O,  Thy    neck     is    like     the     silkier  dew    up-  on  the 


bank    sue      brier  „  ie    0{      Thy  teeth  are  o*  the    i^vo^ry,  O 


*      sweets   the   twink^le      o*    thine    eV,   Nae     joy    nae  pleasure 


i 


1 


Minks    on    me,   My    on iy    toe    and    dear_ie  O 


The  birdie  sings  upon  the  thorn 
ha   sang  o*  joy  fu'  cl^eerie,  O. 
Rejoicing  in  the  simmer  morn, 
Nat  care  to  mak*  it  eerie  Oi 
Rut  little  kens  the  Gangster  sweet 
^ti'^ht  o*  the  care  T  hae  to  meet. 
That  gars  Bay  restles  bosom  beat, 
Mv  only  joe  and  dearie,  O. 

Whan  we  war  bairnies  on  yon  brae, 
And  youth  was  blinkin'  bory  Ol" 
A/(   vv<   wad  daff  the  Icelang  dfay, 
Om   |<»vs  fu*  sweet  and  monie  Ol 


Aft  L  wad  chace  thee  o'er  the  lee, 
And.  round  about  the  thornie  tree, 
Or  pu*  the  wild  -floners  a*  for  thee, 
Mv  only  joe  and  dearie  Ol 

I  hae'  a  wish  I  canna  tine 

*Mang  a*  the  cares  that  grieve  n  e  O. 

A  wish  that  thou  wert  ever  uune. 

And  never  mmr  to  leave  me  O. 

Then  I  wad  daut  thee  night  and  da\  , 

Nor  it  her  war*fy  care  Had  hae 

Till  life's  warm  stream  forgot  to  play, 

M\  only  roe  and  dearie  Oi 


O  ay  my   wife  shr  dang  me. 


Some  sairie  comfort  still  at  last. 
When  -a  thir  days  are  dont,  man, 

My  pain*  o'  hell  on  earth  is  past, 
I'm  sure  o*  bliss  aboon  man 
O  ay  a:y~'  wife  she 


533 


Come  under   my  plaidy. 


<           Come  under  my  plaidy,  the  ni, 

ghti  gaen  to  fa;  Come 
 » ■  f- 

Livclv 

§E*=I 


in     frae    the    cauld   blaft,  the    drift  and 


the    fnaw;  Come 


my    plaidy,  and    lye    down    be-fide  me;  Th 


ere  8  room    in  t 


m 


be  down  beflde  me    I'll    hap  ye  frae  evry  cauld  blaft  that  will 


^  ro 

om    mt   dear    lafsie  be 

^  iRve    me  t< 

Jr  twa. 

 » — , — 

Continued. 


*Gae  *wa  wt  your  plaidyi  auld  Donald  gae*  wa! 
'I  fear  na  the  cauld  blaft,  the  drift,  nor  the  fnaw. 
'Gae   wa  wi*  your  plaidyi  1*11  no  lye  befide  ye, 

Ye  may  be  my  gutchard,  auld  Donald  gae'wa. 
*I  m  ga'en  to  meet  Johnny,  he's  young  and  he's  bonny, 

Hes,  been  at  Megs  bridal,  fou  trig  and  fou  brawl 
'O  there's  nane  dance  fae  lightly,  fae  gracefu*  fae  tighth 

His  cheeks  like  the  new  rofe,  his  brow*s  Jike  the  fnaw. 

"Dear  Marion  Jet  that  flee  ftick  faff  to  the  wa, 
"Your  Jock  s  but  a  gowk,  and  has  naething  ava, 
The  haill  o  his  pack  he  has  now  on  his  back, 
He  b  thretty,  and  I'm  but  threefcore  and  twa . 
"Be  frank  now  and  kindly,  1*11  buflc  you  aye  finely; 
At  kirk  or  at  market  they  11  few  gang  fae  braw; 
A  btin  houfc  to  bide  in,  a  chaife  for  to  ride  in. 
And  flunkies  to  tend  ye  as  aft  as  ye  ca\ 

'My  father's  ay  tell'd  me,  my  mither  and  a*, 
'Ye'd  mak  a  gude  hufband,  and  keep  me  ay  braw, 
Its  true  I  loo  Johnny  he's  gude  and  he's  bonny, 
'Hut  waes  mei  je  ken  he  has  naething  ava! 
4l  hae  little  tocher, you've  made  a  gude  offer, 
4 I'm  now  mair  than  twenty,  my  time  is  but  fma' 
Sae  gfeme  your  plaidie,  1*11  creep  in  befide  ye, 
T  thought  ye'd  been  aulder  than  threefcoYe  and  twa*. 

.She  crap  in  ayont  him,  befide  the  ftane  wa* 
Whar  Johnny  was  lift'ning  and  heard  her  tell  a\ 
The  day  was  appointed,  his  proud  heart  it  dunted, 
And  ftrack  gainft  his  fide  as  if  burfting  in  twa. 
He  wandered  hame  weary,  the  night  it  was  drear)  ! 
And  thowlefs,  he  tint  his  gate  deep  mang  the  fnaw. 
The  Howfet  was  fcreaming,  while  Johnny  cried,*' Women 
"VVa'd  marry  auld  nick  if  he'd  keep  them  ay  bra'. 

"O  the  dee  Is  in  the  lafses!  they  gang  now  fae  bra', 
They'll  K-.down  wi*  auld  men  o*  fourfcore  and  twa, 
I  he  haill  o*  their  marriage,  is  gowd  and  a 'carriage, 
"Plain  love  is  the  cauldeft  blaft  now  that  can  blaw! 
Tint  We  them  i  canna  nor  marry  I  winna 
**Wif  on>  daft  lafsie.  tho'  fair  as  a  Queen, 
I  il  l  love  hae  a  {hare  o't,  the  never  a  hair  o't 
Shall  gang  in  my  wallet  at  morning  or  e'en!* 


66* 


Come  follow,  follow  me. 


534  r 

Come  follow, follow  o  r,      ye  fairy  elves  that  be,  Com» 


follow  me  your  Queen     And   trip    it     oer    the  green;  Hand 


?,j  rr  c  gf 


PP 


hand    we'll   dance    around  because  this  place  is    f  .irv  ground  hand  in 


i 


land    we'll   dance  around,  Kecause   this  plare  is  fairy  ground. 


When  mortals  are  at  rest, 

\nd  snoring  in  th  ir  nest; 

Uriheed,  and  unespv^. 

Through  key  holes  we  do  glide, 
Over  tables,  stools  and  shelves, 
We  trip  it  with  our  Fairv  elves. 

And  if  the  house  4ic  ton!, 
With  platter,  dish  or  bowl, 
Cp  stairs  we  nimbly  creep, 
And  find  the  sluts  asleep; 
Then  we  pinch  their  arms  and  thigh* 
None  us  hcars,and  none  us  spies. 

But  if  the  house  be  swept, 
And  from  uncJeannesfi  k<pf, 
We  praise  the  hous' hold  maid, 
And  surely  she  is  paid; 
Every  night  before  we  go, 
We  drop  a  teeter  in  her  shoe. 

Then  oer  a  mushroom's  head 
Our  table-cloth  we  spread, 

\  <tr$  ;.\*  or  be."'- 


The  diet  that  wx  eat  . 
Pearly  drops  of  dew  we  drink. 
In  acorn  cups  filfd  to  the  brink. 

The  brain  of  nightingales. 
With  unctious  fat  of  snails, 
Between  tw~o cockles  stew'd. 
Is  meat  that's  eas'K  chew'd, 
And  brains  of  worms  61  marrow  of  mice 
Do  make  a  feast  that 8  wondrous  nice. 

The  grasshopper,  gnat  and  fly. 

Serve  for  our  minstr«ls>. 

Grace  said,  we  dance  a  while. 

And  so  the  time  beguile; 
But  if  the  moon  doth  hide  her  head. 
The  glow-worm  lights  us.,  home  to  bed* 

O  er  tops  of  dewy  grass  " 

So  nimbly  we  do  pass. 

The  young  and  tender  stalk; 

Ne'er  bends'  where  we  do  *-alk; 
Yet  in  the  morning  may  be  seen, 
Where  we        Ki^h*  before  kave  been* 


Lord  Thomas  and  fair  Annet. 


an 


Lord  Thomas  faid  a  word  in  jeft, 
Fair  Annet  took  it  ill; 

A.  I  will  never  wed  a  wife 
Againft  my  ain  friends  will. 

Qif  ye  will  never  wed  a  wife, 
A  wife  will  nc*er  wed  yee. 

Sae  he  is  hame  to  tell  bis  mither, 
An*  knelci  upon  his  knee: 

O  rede,  O  rede,  mither,  he  lays, 
A  gude  rede  gie  to  me. 

O  fall  I  tak  the  nut-browne  bride, 
And  let  fair  Annet  be** 


lie  rede  ye  tak  fair  Annet,  Thomas, 
And  let  the  browne  bride  alane. 

Left  ye  fould  figh,  and  fay,  Alas 
What  is  this  we  brought  hame? 

NTo,  I  will  tak  my  mithers  counfel, 
And  marrie  me  out  o'  hand,: 

And  I  will  tak  the  ^ut-brown*  bride, 
Fair  Annet  may  leave  the  land. 

Cp  then  rofe  fair  Annets  father 
Twa  hours  or  it  wered&V, 

And  he  is  gane  into  the  bower 
Wherein  fair  Annet  lav 


The  nut-brown e  bride  hasr  gowd  &  gear,  Rife  up,  rife  up, fair  Annet, he  fays, 
Fair  Annet  flic's  gat  nane,  Put  on  your  filken  fteene, 

And  the  little  bewtie  fair  Annet  has,     Let  us  gae  to  St  Maries  kirk*, 
O  it  will  foon  be  gane.  And  fee  that  rich  weddeij 

And  he  has  to  his  brither  gane,  My  maids-  gae  to  my  dre&ng-room, 

Now,  brither,  rede  ye  me,  And  drefs  to  me  my  hair, 

A.  fall  I  marrie  the  nut-browne  bride,  Whair  ere  ye  laid  a  plait  before, 
And  let  fcir  Annet  he}.  See  ye  "lay  ten  times  mair. 

The  nut  -browne  bride  has  oxen, brother, My  maids  ,  gae  to  my  dreffmg-roon 
ike  hut~browne  bride  has  kye,  And  drefs  to  me  my  fmock, 

I  wad  hae  ye  marrie  the  nut-browne  bridcjhe  one  half  is  o'  the  holland  fine, 
And  oait  fa*  Annet  by  .  The  other  o  needle-work 


Her  oxen  may  dye  i'  the  houfe,Bi!lie, 
And  her  kye  into  the  djtc, 

And  1  fall  hae  naething  to  myfcU 
hut  a  fat  fadge  by  the  fyre. 

And  he  has  till  his  fifter  gane: 

Now,  fifter,  rede  ye  me, 
O  Tall  I  marrie  the  nut-browne  bride, 

And  fet  fair  Annet  free? 


The  horfe  fair  Annet  rade  upon* 
He  amblit  like  the  wind, 

Wr filler  he  was  fhod  before, 
Wi'  burning  gowd  behind.  . 

Four~and -twenty  filer  bells 
Werera  tied  till  his  mane, 

Wi*  yae  tift  o'  the  norland  wind. 
They  tinkted  ane  by  ane. 

Over 


0^  t 


Continued. 


Ibur  -and  twenty  g&y  ^udc  knights 

Bade  by  fair  Annttk  fide, 
And  four  and  twenty  fair  ladies, 

As  £rm  fhe  had  bin  a  bride. 

And  whun  (he  cam  to  Maries,  fcirke, 
She  fat  on  Maries  ftean,  vi 

The  cf lading  that  fair  Annet  had  on 
h  fkinkled  in  their  een. 

And  uhan  (he  cam  into  the  kirke, 
Sh£  iklmmer'd  like  the  fun. 

The  belt  that  was  aboute  her  waift 
Was  a*  wi'pearles  bedone. 

She  fat  her  by  the  nut-browne  bride, 
And  her  een  they  wer  fae  clear, 

Lord  Thomas  he  clear  forgat  the  bride, 
When  fair  Annet  drew  near. 

He  had  a  rofe  into  his  hand, 

He  gae  if  knsfes  three, 
And  reaching  by  the  nut-browne  bride, 

Laid  it  on  fair  Anneta  knee. 

Cpthen  fpak  the  nut  browne  bri'de, 

She  fpak  wi'  meikle  fpite, 
And  whair  gat  5"fe  that  rofe-water 

That  does  mak  yee  fae  white? 

O  T  did  get  the  rofe-water 

Whair  ye  wtifl  neir  get  nane, 


for  J  did  get  that  very  rofe  -water 
Into  my  mithers  wame. 

I  he  bride  fhe  drew  a  long  bodkin 

Frae  out  her  gay  head  gear. 
And  ftrake  fair  Annet  unto  the  heart, 
That  word  fpak  never  mai:. 

Lord  Thomas  faw  fair  Annet  wax  pale, 
And  marvelit  what  mote  bee, 

But  whan  he  faw  her  dear  hearts  blude.j 
A*  wood  wroth  wexed  hee. 

He  drew  his  dagger  that  was  fae  fharp,  j 
That  was  fae  iharp  and  meet. 

And  dravc  it  in  to  the  nut  broune  bride,  [ 
That  fell  deid  at  his  feit . 

I 

Now  fray  for  me,  dear  Annet,  he  faid. 

Now  ft  ay,  my  dear,  he  cryd; 
Then  ftrake  the  dagger  until  his  heart, 

And  fell  deid  by  hir  fide. 

Lord  Thomas  was  bury*d  without  kirk-wa 
Fair  Annet  within  the  quic-re; 

And  o'. the  tane  thair  grew  a  birlr,. 
The  other  a  bonny  briere. 

And  ay  they  t&r-w,  and  ay  they  threw. 
As  they  .w^'cl  faine  be  neare, 

And  by  thfs  ye  may  ken  right  weil, 
Tjhey  wer  twa  luvers  deare. 


William  and  Margaret. 


glfrJflJfrf  'J  f  H  ^jH 

^336  ~S  Twas  at  the  fi lent  fojemn  hour  when  night  and   morn  _  ing 


Slow 


mttt;  In  glided  Marg'rets  grimly  gftkrft  and  ftood  at  Williams  feet  Her 


Continned. 


6  5-5 


So  ifhall  the  faireft  face  appear  "Why  did  you  fay  my  lips  was  fweet, 

When  youth  and  years  are  flown,  "And  made  the  fcarlet  pale? 

Such  is  the  robe  that  Kings  muft  wear  "And  why  did  I, young  witlefs  maid! 

When  Death  has  reft"  their  crown.  "Believe  the  flattering  tale?  „ 

Her  bloom  was  like  the  fpringing  flowr  "That  face,  alas!  no  more  ^  . fair, 

That  fips  the  filrer  dew;  "Thofe  lips  no  longer  red: 

The  rofe  was  budded  in  her  cheek,  "Dark  are  my  eyes, now  closcf  in  death, 

Juft  opening  to  the  view.  "And  every  charm  is  fled. 

But  love  had.iike  a  canker- worm.  "The  hungry  worm  my  fifter  is; 

Confum'd  her  early  prime.  "This  winding  fheet  I  wear; 

The  rofe  grew  pale,  and  left  her  cheek;  "And  cold  and  weary  lafts  our  night, 

.She  dy'd  before  her  time.  "Till  that  laft  morn  appear,  (hence; 

Awake!   fhe  cry 'd,  "thy  true  love  calls,  "Hut,  hark!  the  £Ock  has  warnd  me  - 

'Come  from  her  midnight  graven  "Along  and  late  adieu! 

Now  let  thy  pity  hear  the  maid  "Come  lee,falie  man!  how  low  (he  lies 

Thy  love  refus*d  to  fave.  "Who  d\*d  for  love  of  youV  " 

This  is  the  dumb  and  dreary  hour  The  lark  fung  loud,the  morning  unifd 

When  injur  cl  ghofts  complain,  With  beams  of  rely  red; 

"When  yawning  graves  give  up  their  dead  Pale  William  quak'd  in  every  limb', 

"To  haunt  the  faithlefs  fwain.  And  raving  left  his  bed. 

"Bethink  thee,  William!  of  thy  fault,  He  hy'd  him  to  the  fatal  place 

*Thy  pledge  and  broken  oath,  Where  Margrets  body' lay,  (turf 

And  give  me  back  my  maiden  Vow,  And  ftretch'd  him  on  the  green grafs 

"And  give  me  back  my  troth.  That  wrapp'd  ner  breathlefs  clay.  t 

Why  did  you  promife  love  to  me,  And  thrice  he  call'd  on  MargVets  name, 

jAnd  not  that  promife  keep?  And  thrice  he  wept  full  fort^ 

Why  did  you  fwear  my  eyes  were  bright,  Then  laid  his  cheek  to  her  cold  grave 

JYet  leave  thofe  eyes  to  weep?  And  word  fpoke  never, more. 

^  How  could  you  fay  my  face  was  fair,  Such  be  the  fate  of  vows  unpaid, 

And  y  et  that  face  forfake?  And. pledge  of  sacred  lovel 

tjHow  could  you  win  my  virgin  heart,  <  TfiV  thry  mty  tempt  the  yielding  »)*id„ 

Vet  leave  that  heart  to  break.  They  re  ngtuty-a  above! 


6-56 


£37 


What  ails  the  lafses  at  rue. 


oung  b^che 


}  J;.  J  p  a  J  J 

lor  w  infome  a  farmer  by  rank     degree  and 


Lively 


iy     few  T  fee  gang  out  mair  handfome  to  kirk  or  to  mar_ket  than  me.  Ive 


bme  to  kirk  or  to  mar_ktt  than  m« 


3 


if 


ppp 


outfight  and  infight  and  credit,  And  frae  ony  eelift    T'm      free  T'm 


p 


r?  \.  f  f  r 


^     wee  I  enough  boarded  and  bedded,  What  ails  a*  the  lafses  at  me 


My  bughts  of  good  ftore  are  no  (canty,  O,  if  I  kend  how  but  to  gain  them. 

My  byrw?  are  well  ftocked  wi*  kye,  How  fond  of  the  knack  wad  I  be. 

Of  meal  i*  my  girnels  is  plenty,  Or  what  an  ad d re fs  could  obtain  them. 

An  twa  or  three  eafments  forby.  It  fhould  be  twice  welcome  to  me. 
An  horfe  to  ride  out  when  they re  weary,  If  killing  an  clapping  wad  pleafe  them, 

An*  cock  with  the  beft  they  can  fee,  That  trade  I  fhould  drive  till  I  die; 

An*  then  be  ca'd  dawty  and  deary,  But,  however  I  ftudy  to  eafe  them, 

f  feirH  what  ails  them  at  me.  They've  ftill  an  exception  at  me. 

Behind  backs,  afore  fouk  Tve  woo'd  them,There*s  wratacks,an  cripples,an  cranftiaks. 

An*  a*  the  gates  o't  that  I  ken,  An  a'  the  wandoghts  that  I  ken, 

An'  when  they  leugh  o*  me  I  trow'd  them,  Nq  fooner  they  fpeak  to  the  wenches, 

An*  thought  I  had  won,  but  what  then;  But  they  are  taen  far  enough  ben; 

When  I  fpeak  of  matters  they  grumble,  But  when  T  fpeak  to  them,that*s  ftately 

Nor  are  condescending  and  free„  I  find  them  ay  ta'en  with  the  gee, 

But  at  my  propofals  ay  ftumble,  An*  get  the  denial  right  flatly; 

I  wond<  r  what  ails  them  at  me.  What,  think  ye,  can  ail  them  at  me. 

fVe  try*d  them  baith  highland  <fc  lowland,  I  have  ^et  but  ae  offer  to  mak-  them, 
Where  i  a  good  bargain  coucJ  fee.  If  they  wad  but  hearken  to  me, 

But  nane  o'  them  fand  I  wad  fall  in,     And  that  is,  I'm  willing  to  tak  them, 
Or  fay  they  wad  buckle  wi*  me.  If  they  their  confent  wad  bwt  gee; 

Withjooks  an  wi*fcraps  I  ve  addrc4s'dthem,Let  her  that's  content  write  a  billet. 
Bern  with  them  baith  mode it  ind  frfee.     An*  get  it  tranfmittcd  to  me, 
Bi  f  whatever         I  carefs'J  thtm,  I  hereby  engage  to  fulfil  it. 

There's  fomething  /'ill  ails  them  at  me.    Tho*  cripple,  tho'  blind  (he  fud  be. 


The  fun  in  the   weft . 


557 


3(38  "S  #    Tne  fun  in  the  weft  fas  to   reft  in  the   e'en^in*  ilk 


p 


i 


Slow 


r  r 


morning-  blinks  cheerfu  ii-pon  the  green  lee,  But  ah  on  the  pillow  o* 


As  the  aik  on  the  mountain  refifts  the  blaft  rain, 
Sae  did  he  the  brunt  o*  the  battle  fuftaih, 
I  ill  treach'ry  arrefted  his  courage  fae  darin. 
And  laid  him  pale,  lifejefs  upon  the  drear  plain. 
Cauld  winter  the  flower  diverts  o*  it*  cleidin, 
in    fimmer  again  it  blooms  bonny  to  fee; 
But  naething,  alas!  can  ha'e  my  heart  btefdin, 
Drear  winter  remaining  for  ever  wi*  me. 


1 


o58 


Scroggam 

Written  for  this  Work  by  Robert  Burns. 


539  < 


^/^Thcre  was  a  wife  wonnd  in  Cockpen,Scroggam  She  brewd  gude  ale  for 


Im 


Stowifh 


~n7 k  1 


3 


lay  vou  down  by  me  ScrOffeam  my  deari< 


gentlemen  fing  auld  Cowl  lay  you  down  b> 

toe 


roggam  my  dearie, Ruffum. 


The  gudewife's  dochter  fell  in  a  fever.  They  laid  the  twa  i*  the  bed  thegitherv 

Soroggam;  Scroggam,  ^tither 

The  priest  o*  the  parish  fell  in  anither,  That  the  heat  o' the  tane  might  cool  the 

Sing  auld  Cowl,  lay  you  down  by  me,  Sing  auld  Cowl,  lay  you  down  by  mev 

Scroggam*  my  Deariey  ruffum.  Scroggam,  my  Dearie,  rtxffum.  ^ 

()  Toll  me  my  bonny  8Ce. 

*•  •<  ±r 


540 


O  tell  ire  my  bonny  young  lafsie,0  tell  me  how  for  to  woo;  O 


Slowifh 


m 


tell  ri 

ne  n 

lv 

bo 

nr 

y  fweef  lafsie,0 

tell  me  t 

^e 

way  fc 

►r  to 

eg 

Wf 

>o. 

fay  maun  I  roofe  your  red  checks  like  the  morning;  lips  like  the 


rofe  when  its  rabiftencl  wi*  dew;  And  fay  maun  I  roofe }  our  eens  pauky 
 fr 


Continued. 


^9 


0  far  hae  I  wander  a1  dear  lafsie. 
To  fee  thee  fail'd  the  fait  fea, 

J  ye   travel d  ocr  muirlan  an  mountain, 
An  hou  felefs  Iain  cauld  on  the  lea; 

1  never  hae  try'd  yet,  to  raak'  love  to  ony, 

Never  loe'd  ony,  till  ance  I  loe'd  you, 
An  now  were  alane  in  the  greenwood  fae  bonny, 
Now^tell  me  dear  lafsie  the  way  for  to  woo. 


What  care  J,  for  your  wandering,  laddie, 

Or  yet  for  your  failing  the  fea. 
It  was  na  for  nought  ye  left  Jeggv, 

My  tocher  it  brought  ye  to  me; 
An  fay,  hae  ye  goud  for  to  bufk  me  ay  gaudy, 

Ribbons  an  pearlins  an  breaftknots  enow, 
A  houfe  that  is  canty,  wi'  plenifhin*  plenty. 

Without  them,  ye  never  need  come  for  to  woo. 

I  ha*e  na€  goud  to  bufk  ye  ay  gaudv, 

Nor  }  et,  buy  ribbons  enow, 
1  brag  not  o*  houfe  or  o*  plenty, 

But,  f  hae  a  heart  that  is  true; 
1  came  na  for  tocher,  I  ne'er  heard  of  ony, 
^  Never  lo  ed  Peggy,  nor  e  er  brak  my  vow; 
I've  wander'd,  poor  fool,  for  a  face  faufe  as  bonny; 

e  na  ye  roof  cl  my  cheeks  like  the  morning, 

An  roofci  my  cherry  red  mow, 
YeVe  come  o'er  the  Sea*  Muir,  and  Mountain, 

What  mair  Johnny  need  ye  to  woo; 
An  far  hae  ye  wander'd  I  ken,  my  dear  laddie. 

Now  ye  hae  found  me,ye've  nae  caufe  to  rue, 
Wi'  health  we'll  ha'e  plenty,  I'll  never  tfang  gaudy, 

i  ne'er  wifh'd  for  mair  than' a  heart  that  is  true. 

She  hid  her  fair  face  in  his  bofom, 

The  tear  filPd  ilk  lovers  ee. 
An  fabbclby  the  fide  o*  the  burnie, 

While  the  mavis  fang  fweet  on  the  tree; 
He  claff)'d  her,  he  prefs'd  her  an  cad  her  his  honey, 

Look'd  in  her  face  wi'  a  heart  leel  an  true. 
As  aften  (he  fi^h'd  an  faid,  my  dear  Johnny, 

Nae  body  need  tell       the  way  for  to  woo. 


660 


O  Mary  turn  awa 
S=Br-  » 


r\   \/l   .   IT 


SE 


3 


it 


541  ^-jK      O  Mary    turn    a  Iwa   that  bonny   face    o*     thine  O 


Slowifh 


i  r  i 


e.  Can 


dinna    dinna    fhaw    that    breaft    that    never   can   be   mine.  Can 


m 


ought     o'    warlds    gear     e*er    cool    my     bofoms     care  Ka 


for    ilka    look    o     thine    it      only    feeds  defpair 


Then  Mary,  turn  awa* 

That  bonny  face  o'  thine; 

O  dinna,  dinna  fhaw  that  breaft 

That  never  can  be  mine  I 

Wi*  love's  fevereft  pangs 

My  heart  is   laiden  fair,  (grow 

An    o'er  my  breaft  the  grafs  maun 

1C  re   1  am  free  frae  care] 

Same  Tune 

"y^HAT  ail*  this  heart  of  mine? 

V/hat  ails  this  watry  ce? 

What  gars  me  ay  turn  cald  as  death, 

Whan  I  tak*  leave  o*  thee? 

When  thou  art  far  awa 

Thou'lt  dearer  grow  to  me. 

Hut  change  o'  fouk  an  change  p*  place, 

May  gar  thy  fancy  jee , 


Then  I'll  fit  down  and  moan, 

Juft  by  yon  fpreadin'  tree, 

An*  gin  a  leaf  fa*  in  my  lap, 

I'll  ca't  a  word  frae  thee  I 

Syne  111  gang  to  the  bower, 

Which  thou  wi'  rofes  tied, 

'Twas  there  by  mony  a  blulbing  bud 

I  ftrove  my  love  to  hide. 

Ill  doat  on  ilka  fpot 

Whar  I  ha'e  been  wi'  thee 

111  ca*  to  mind  fome  fond  love  taie 

By  evry  burn  an  tree. 

'Tis  hope  that  cheers  the  mind, 

Tho'  lovers  abfent  be; 

An  wfir-n  I  think  I  fee  thee  ftill, 

I  think  im  ftill  wi'  thee. 


Gude  ale  hauds  me  bare  and  busy, 
Oars  me  moop  wf  the  servant  hiz/ie, 
Stand  i*  the  stool  when  I  hae  done, 
Gude  ale  keeps  my  heart  aboon. 
O  gude  ale  comes  and  gude  ale  goes, 
Gude  ale  gars  me  sell  Wy  hose, 
Sell  my  hose,  and  pawn  wy  shoon, 
Gude  ale  keeps  my  heart  aboon. 


662 


Robin  shure  in  hairst 
!horus        Written  for  this  Work  by  Kobert  Burns 


343 \*       Ro  -  bin     shure    in    hairst,     I     shure      wf  hi 


Brisk 


1    1  1  1  "1  1 


Tint 


heuk     had     1,       Yet      I       stack        by  him. 


m 


I     l'4  1 


Song 


Was  na  Robin  hem  Id, 

Tho*  I  was  a  cotter. 
Play 'd  me  sic  a  trick 

And  me  the  Ellers  dochter? 
Robin  shure  fee. 


Robin  promis'd  me 
A'  my  winter  vittle; 

Fient  haet  he  had  but  three 
Goos  feathers  and  whittle 
Robin  shure  fee. 


Wha  wadna  be  in  love  8Cc. 

See  another  Set  of  this  Tune  Vol.  if*  Page  99 


Lively 


Continued. 


663 


Maggy,  quoth  he,  and  by  my  bags, 

Fm  fidging  fain  to  see  yoU; 
Sit  down  by  me,  my  bonny  bird, 

In  troth  I  winna  steer  thee: 
for  Vm  a  piper  to  my  trade, 

My  name  is  Kob  the  Ranter; 
The  lasses  loup  as  they  were  daft 

When  I  blaw  up  my  chanter. 

Piper,  quoth  Meg,  hae  you  your  bags, 
Or  is  your  drone  in  order? 

W  you  be  Rob,  I've  heard  of  you, 
lave  you  upo*  the  border? 

The  lasses  a\  baith  far  and  near, 
^  Have  heard  of  Rob  the  Ranter; 

HI  shak  my  foot  wi' right  good  will, 
Gtf  you'll  blaw  up  your  chanter. 


Then  to  his  bags  he  flew  witn  speed, 

About  the  drone  he  twisted, 
Meg  up,  and  wallop'd  o'er  the  green. 

For  brawly  cou'd  she  frisk  it. 
Weeldone,quoth  he;  Play  qp.CfucrtL  she 

Weel  bob'd,quoth  Rob  the  HaaLer. 
'Tis  worth  my  while  to  play  indeed, 

When  I  hae  sic  a  dancer. 

Wee I  hae  you  play'd  your  part,quithMe!? 

Your  cheeks  are  like  the  crimson; 
There's  nane  in  Scotland  plays  s»e  weel, 
^  Since  we  lost  Habby  Simpson. 
Fve  liv*d  in  Fife,  baith  maid  and  wife. 

These  ten  }  ears  and  a  quarter; 
Gin  you  should  come  to  Enster  fair. 

Spier  ye  for  Maggy  Lawder. 


545 


A  Cogie  of  ale,  ancf  a  pickle  ait  meaL 


k  k 


A  cogie  of  ate  and  a    pickle  ait  meal,  And  a    dainty  wte 


Lively. 


drappy  of  whisky  was  our  fore  fathers  dose  to  swiel  down  their  brose& 


m 


maV  them  blythe  cheery  an*  frisky-.     Then  hey  for  the   co-gie  and 


£ 


m 


¥ 


hey  for  the  ale  .and  hey  for  the  whisky  &  hey  for  the  meal;  when  mix'da*  the 


m 


gether  they  do  unco  weeUjTo  mak*  a  chield  cheerv  and  brisk  ay. 


3p* 


As  1  view  our  Scots  lads,  in  their  kilts  and  cockades, 
A*  blooming  and  fresh  as  a  rose,  man; 
I  think  wi*  myselj  Ol  the  meal  and  the  ale, 
And  the  fruits  of  our  Scottish  kail  brose,  man. 
Then  hey  for  the  cogie  *£c. 

When  our  brave  highland  blades,  wi'  their  claymores  and  plaids, 
in  the  field,  drive,  like  sheep,  a*  our  foes,  man; 
Their  courage  and  pow'r,  spring  frae  this,  to  be  sure, 
They're  the  noble  effects  of  the  brose,  man. 
Then  hey  for  the  cogie  tic. 

Hut  y  our  spindle  shank'd  sparks,  wha  but  ill  set  their  sarks, 
And  y  our  pale  visage!  milksops,  and  beaus,  man, 
\  think  when  1  see  them,  'twere  kindness  to  gie  them, 
A  cogie  of  ale  and  of  brose,  man. 
Then  hey  fcr  the  cogie  &c. 


The  Dumfries  Volunteer*. 
Written  for  this  Work  by  Robert  Burns. 


666 


546 


i 


Does  haughty 


•  Gaul  in-v? 


i 


vafion  threat,  Then  let  the  louns  be 


with  Spirit, 


5 


5": 


ware,  Sir*  There*®  wooden  walls  u-pon  our  Ic-a^And  ^btunteers  -joh  fhore^Su. 

~-^~4-   .....   -~_.fr„,   <,■       I  ■ 


i 


The  Nith  fhall  rin  to  Corstncon,  The  Criffel  fink  in    Solway,  F  re 


i 


4* 


Chorus 


we  permit  a  foreign  foe,  On  Britifh  ground  to    ra I  _fy,  We'll  ne'er  per 


93* 


nil 


oiit  a  foreign  fbe#  On  Btmf8*  ground  io     ra!  _  fy 


r-p-r  r  r  ifr 


O  let  us  not,  like  fnafltng  curs, 

In  wrangling  be  divided, 
Till,  flapi  come  in  an  unco  louo, 

And  wi*  a  rung  decide  it: 
Be  Britain  ftilt  to  Britain  true, 

Amang  ourfels  united: 
For  never  but  by  Bntiih  hands 

Maun  Britifh  wrangs  be  righted. 
For  never  but  &c. 

The  kettle  o*  the  Kirk  and  State, 
Perhaps  a  clout  may  fail  int; 

But  deil  a  foreign  tinkler  loun 
Shall  ever  ci  a  nail  inV. 

Our  fathers  blude  the  kettle  bought 


And  *ha  wad  dare  to  fpoil  it, 
Bjs  Heavens,  the  facrile^ious  dog 
Shall  fuel  be  to  boil  iti 
By  Heavens,  &ct 

The  wretch  that  would  a  Tyrant  own, 

And  the  wretch,  his  tine  [Worn  brother, 
Who  would  let  the  Mob  above  the  throne, 

May  they  be  damn'd  together. 
Who  will  not  ftng^God  l..ve  the  kinj»; 

Shall  hang  as  high's  the  fteepie; 
But  while  we  fmg,God  fave  the  kii^, 

We'll  neer  forget  the  People. 
But  while  we  fing  fee. 


5B6 


He's  dear  dear  to  rne  SCc. 


gane  for  fee's  dear  dear  to  me  tho  he's  far  far   frae  me. 


I  ve  been  in  the  lowlands  where  they  (hear  the  fh<<p, 
An'  up  in  the  highlands  where  they  pu  the  heather, 
I  ken  a  bonny  ladie  that  to'es  me  weei, 
But  he's  far  far  awa  that  1  lo'e  far  better. 

Bat  I'll  write  a  letter;  an   fend  it  to  him, 
An^  tell  him  he's  dearer  to  me  then  ory, 
An'  ^that  I've  ay  been  forry,  fen  he  gaed  awa, 
Tho  he's  far  far  away,  jet  he's  dear  dear  to  me. 

If  winter  war'  paft,an  the  fimmer  come  in, 
When  daifies  an'  rofes  fpring  fae  frefh  an  bonny, 
Then  \  wi)i  change  my  filfcs  for  a  plaiddin  coat, 
An  awa  to  the  lad  that  is  dear  dear  to  me . 

The  blue  bells  of  Scotland. 


A  little  Lively 


where 


nd  77  where  does  y  our  highland  laefdie  dwell; 


He  dwells  in  merrv 


fweetly  fmeli  and  all  in  my  heart  I 


love  my  laddie  well. 


O  what  lafsie  what  does  your  highland  laddie  wear, 
O  what  lafsie  what  does  your  highland  laddie  wear, 
A  fcarlet  coat  and  bonnet  blue*  with  bonny  yellow  hair, 
And  none  in  the  world  can  with  my  love  compare. 

O  where  and  O  where  is  your  highland  laddie  gone, 

O  where  and  O  where  is  your  highland  laddie  gone, 

He  8  gone  to  fight  for  George  our  King,  and  left  me  al!  atone 

tor  noble  and  brave's  my  loyal  hig'hlandman. 

O  what  lafsie  what  if  your  highland  lad  be  flain, 

O  what  lafsie  what  if  jour  hi-hland  lad' be  (lain 

O  no  true  love  will  be  his  guard  and  bring  him  fafe  again, 

For  I  never  could  live  without  my  highiandman. 

O  when  and  O  when  will  your, highland  lad  come  hame, 
O  when  and  O  when  will  your  highland  lad  come  hame, 
When  e  er  the  war  is  over  he'll  return  to  n*?  with  fame, 

And  I'll  plait  a  wreath  of  flowVs  for  my  lovely  highiandman. 

O  what  will  y0u  ciafu,  fQr  yQur  conftancy  to  him, 
O  what  will  you  claim  for  your  conftancy  to  him, 
I'll  claim  a  Prieft  to  marry  us, a  Clerk  to  fay  Amen, 
And  ne'er  part  again  from  my  bonny  highiandman. 


568 


Colin  Cloot 


^^^^^^^^^^^ 

W^w  -Uaa  an     laf.ses    mad;   .Ah     waes    my    heart  had 


cooft    his  glammir    orr   poor   Coitn    luck    lefs  lad 


;  gj          i        r  j 

p  — i 

Cruel  Jenny,  lack  a  dnifeyl 
Lang  had  gart  him  grteet  an  grane 
£olins  pate  was  hafflins  cra/y, 
Jenny  laughci  at  Cofins  pain, 
Siawly  up  his  duds  he  gathers, 
Slawly,  flawly  trudges  out, 


What  is  this?  cries  Colin  glowVin* 
Glaiked -like,  a*  round  about, 
Jenny,  this  is  paft  endurin; 
Ejeath  maun  eafe  poor  Colin  Clout. 
\  the  night  I  tofs  an  tummle, 
Never  can  I  clofe  an  e'e 


An*  frae  the  fauld  he  drives  his  weddersAn  a'  the  day  I  grane  an  grummlc. 
Happier  far  than  Colin  Clout.  Jenny,  this  is  a*  for  thee. 


Now  the  fun,  raise!  frae  his  nappie, 
.Set  the  Orient  in  a  low, 
Drinkin,  ilka  glancing  drappie, 
r  the  field,  an  aV the  knowe. 
Many  a  birdie,  fweetly  fingin, 
Flaffer'd  brifkly  round  about; 
An  mony  a  dainty  flowrie  fpringin, 
V  were  bl)  the  but  Colin  Clout. 


Ye*ll  hae  nane  but  farmer  Patie, 
Caufe  the  fallows  rich  I  trow, 
Ablins,  tho*  he  fhou'd  na  cheat  je, 
Jenny,  ye'll  hae  caufe  to  rue. 
Auld,  an,gJjEyd,  an  crooked -backed. 
Siller  bought  at  fie  a  price. 
Ah!  Jenny,  gin  ye  lout  to-tak*  it, 
tok  will  fay  yeVe  no  o'er  nice.  £c.&c 


Tiv  nae  very  lang  finiytie. 


^69 


o  the  tocher  That  3    taen    my  lad  .  cfie  a 


wa. 


And  1*11  keep  it  a*  my  life, 
tntil  that  I  meet  wi*  a  lacJ 

Wha  has  fenfe  to  wale  a  good  wife 
>or  though  Jfayt  myfell, 

That  fhou*d  nae  fay  t,  tis  true, 
The  lad  that  gets  me  for  a  wife, 
Hell  ne'er  hae  occafion  to  rue; 

I  fringny  f0u  clean  and  fou  tofh, 
As  a'  the  neighbours  can  tell; 


As  blyth  as  I  weel  can  be; 
For  ane  that's  fae  keen  o  the  filler 
Will  never  agree  wi*  me. 

But  as  the  truth  is,  Vm  hearty, 

f  hate  to  be  fcrimpit  or  fcant; 
The  wie  thing  I  hae,  I'll  mak   ufe  o\, 

And  nae  ane  about  me  Oinll  want, 
for  I'm  a  good  guide  o  the  warld, 
I  ken  when  to  ha'd  and  to  gie; 


Though  IV*  f  iS  '  1  Ken  when  to  had  and  *« 


But  fic  as  !  /pin  myfell. 
And  when  I  am  clad  in-  my  coutfey, 

I  think  myfell  as  braw 
As  Sufie,  wi»  a'  her  pearling 
That's  tane  my  laddie  a wa\ 


Will  never  agree  wi*  me 


Contentment  is  better  than  riches, 

An*  he  wha  has  that  has  enough; 
The  matter  is  fetdom  fae  happy 
But  I  u-ifk         „       .     ,  .  ,  As  Ronin  that  drives  the  plough. 


O  once  I  lov'd 


551  -  tjft      O   once   I     iwd    a    bon  _  nie    lafa,     An*     aye  ! 


love    her    ftiM      an    whilft     that    vir_tue  warms 
Ci. 


h — 

Yf^*  E= 

<f        breaft  I'll 

love      ni\       hand-  _fome  Nell. 

i  ^jfi  r  j  I,  jijh 

^»  bonnw   lafses  I  hae  feen, 
And  irony  full  as  braw. 

But  for      id  o  deft  gracefu*  nie  in 
'Yh*   lik*   I  never  faw. 


•She  drefses  ay  fae  clean  and  neat. 

Both  decent  and  genteel; 
And  then  there*  fomethin^  in  her  f&it 

Oars  onv  drefs  look  wee!. 


A  bonny  lafs  I  will  confefs, 

Is  pl<nfant  to  the  ee. 
Hut  without  fome  better  qualities 

Sh«*s  no  a  lafs  for  me. 


A  jjaudy  drefs  and  gentle  air 
May  flight  I)  touch  the  heart, 

But  its  innocence  and  modefty 
That  polifhes  the  dart. 


Hut  Helty  s  looks  are  blythe  and  fweet,Tis  this  in  Nelly  pleafes  me. 
And  what  is  beft  of  a\  'Tis  this  enchants  my  foul; 

Htr  r/|>uUtion  is  coapleat,  For  abfolutelyin  my  breaft 

And  f  ur  without  a  flaw;  She  reigns  without  controul. 


When  I  think  on  my  lad, 


Continued', 


Love  fpeers  na  advice 
Of  parents  o*er  wife. 

That  have  but  ae  bairn  like  me, 
That  looks  upon  oafh, 
As  naething  but  trafh, 

That  (hackles  what  ftould  be  frer 
And  tho*  my  dear  Sad 
No   ae  penny  had, 

•Since  qualities  better  has  he; 
Vbcit  Vm  an  Heircfo, 
1  think  it  but  fair  is. 

To  love  him  fince  he  love*  me. 

Then,  my  dear  Jamie, 

To  thy  kind  Jeanie, 
Haffe.hafte  thee  in  oer  the  fia. 

To  her  wha  can  find 

Nae  cafe  in  her  mind. 
Without  a  blyth  fi^ht  of  thee. 


Tho'  my  dadd\-  forbad, 

And  my    minnv  forbad, 
forbidden  I  will  not  be; 

For  fince  chou  alone 

My  favour  halt  won, 
Nant  elfe  fhail  e*cr  get  it  for  trie. 

Yet  them  Vtl  not  grieve. 
Or  without  their  leave, 

<iie  ny  hand  as  a  wife  to  thee: 
Be  content  with  a  heart. 
That  can  mverdtfert, 

Till  they  ceafe  To  oppofe  or  be. 
My  parents  m:,\  prove 
Ytf  fr'nr\<i  to  our  low, 

V>  hen  our  firm  refolves  thf\  ft  i  : 
Then  1  with  pleafwrr 
VSiII  \ield  up  my  rr<af:,rr. 

And  a'  th**t  lt>vt;  ord»  r«s  .4^  thee-. 


Return  hameward 


To  what  effect  Oiould  thou  be  thrall? 

Be  happy  in  thine  ain  free  will, 
My  heart,  be  never  beftial, 

But  ken  wha  does  thee  good  or  ill, 

At  ha  me  w  ith  me  then  tarry  ftlll, 
And  fee  wha  can  beft  play  their  paws, 

And  let  the  filly  fling  her  fill, 
For  fint  a  crum  of  thee  fhe  fawg . 

Tho*  fhe  be  fair  I  will  not  fen*ie, 

Shc-»  of  a  kind  with  mony  mae; 
For  why  they  are  a  hllon  men/ie 

That  feemeth  good  and  are  not  fae. 
My  heart,  trtkc  neither  fturt  nor  wae 

For  Meg,  for  Marjory,  or  Maufe, 
But  be  thou  bJyth,and  let  her  gae, 

For  fint  a  crum  of  thee  (he  faws. 

He  member,  how  that  Medea 

Wild  for  a  fight  of  j*ft;n  vied, 

^'member  how  that  •  oung  <  'ri  ffjd:4 
Wt  Tu>ilii«  for  Diomelcfr" 


Remember  Helen   as  we  read, 
Brought  Troy  frOm  biifs  unto  bare  was; 

Then  let  her  gae  where  (he  may  fpeed. 
For  fint  a  crum  of  thee  fhe  faws. 

Becaufe  fhe  faid  1  took  it  ill, 

for  her  depart  my  heart  was  fair. 
But  was  beguii'd;  gae  where  (he  will, 
Befhrew  the  heart  that  firft  takes  care. 
But  be  thou  merry  late  and  air, 
This  is  the  final  end  and  claufe, 

And  let  her  feed  and  foullv  fair 
For  fint  a  crum  of  thee  fhe  faws. 

NTeV  dunt  again  within  my  breaft, 

Nc  er  let  her  flights  thy  courage  fpi  11, 
Nor  gie  a  fob  altho*  fhe  fneeft, 

She*  faireft  paid  that  gets  her  will 
SheV  geek  as  gif  I  mean'd  her  ill, 
When  fhe  glaicks  paughty  in  her  brows;  • 

Sow  let  her  fnirt  and  fyke  her  fill. 
For.  fint  a  crum  of  thee  fhe  faws. 


My  L^civ*  gown  there*?  gairs  opou't. 

Chorus  Written  for  this  Work  by  Hobert  Burns. 


57* 


fm  err 


*334"^  *      My  ^af*y*8  gown  there's  gairs  upon t  And  go wd en  flowers  s; 


Lively 


i  r    i  r  u  t 


rare  u_pon*t;  But  Jen  _ny*s   jimps   and  jir.  ktnct  .'Mj  Lord  thinks 


meikle  mair  upon  t.    My  Lord    a    hunting    he  ,  is     gane.  But 


I   ;  r  u   r  i  r 


j  [.if  f~T^ 


hounds  or   hawks  wi*  him    are    name    by    Colin's  cotS'tage 


1    r   i  i~rr~T 


My  Lady's  white, my  Lady's  red  Sac  sweetly  move  her  genty  limbs, 

And  kith  and  kin  o*  Casstllisfctude,  Like  music-notes  o*  Lovers  hymns: 

But  her  tenpund  lands  o*  tocher  gude  The  diamond-dew  in  her  ten  s.»o  blur 

Wer*  a  the  charms  his  Lordship,  loed.  Where  laughing  love  sae  wanton  swtB)« 
My  Lady's  gown  fcc.  My  Lady's  gown 

Out  oer  yon  moor, out  oer  yon' moss,  My  Lady's  dink,  my  Lady's  dresl » 

Whare  gor-cocks  thro?  the  heather  pass,  The  flower  and  fancy  o'  the  west; 

There  wons  au  Id  Co  tin's  bonie  lass,  But  the  Lassie  that  man  loes  best, 

A  My  in  a  wilderness,  O  that's  the  Lass  to  mak  him  blest. 
My  Lady  •  gown  ttc,  My  Lady  s  gown  *c. 


5T» 


May  Morning. 


&53<f*    T^  Ky  '^fhs  and  (hephcTds  are  met  on  the  grcen  Y\ith  garland*  to 


bed  Jo  illumine  the  dew  drops   that  \ef  .per  had  fhl£ 


I>iri»a  thihkjK>nie  Lafsie  Fm  gaun  to  leave  jou. 


0  dinna  think  bonis  Lafsie  I 

s 


m  gaun  to  leave  tou.Dinna  think 


bonie  Lafsie  I'm  gaun  to  leave  you,  Dinna  think  bo_nie  lafsfe  I'm' 


gam.   to  leave  you;  Hi  tak'  a  ftick  in.to  my  hand  an*  come  al 


Stow 


gain    an    fee  you.      ■      Far\r  the  gate  ye   hae    tb  ga%  dark,  the 

^^^^^ 


Continued, 


676 


l  rn  i  ■    W  *  i  ^  ^ 

C  ftay  this  ae 
rT* '    ' "  *~— * 

g=g  J'.  /  J;/lj-J 

night  wi*  j  our  love,  an  4inn. 

i  gang  an  leave  me. 

r   n    f     J-  E=*g 

Brifk.Its  but  a  night  an'  ha'f  a  day  that  Til  leave  my  dearie. 
But  a  night  an  ha*f  a  day  that  PH  leave  my  dearie, 
But  a  night  an*  ha'f  a  day  that  PI1  leave  my  deari*-. 
When  e'er  the  fun  gaes  weft  the  loch,  Pi!  come  again  an  fee  thee, 

>low.  Dinna  gang  my  bonie  lad,  dinna  gang  an  leave  me, 
Dinna  gang  my  bonie  lad,  dinna  gang  an  leave  me. 
When  the  lave  are  found  afleep  lam  dull  an  eerie. 
An  a*  the  lee  lang  night  I'm  fad,  hi*  thinkin  on  my  dearie, 

BriflcO  Dinna  think  bonie  lafsie  iVn  gaun  to  leave  you, 
Dinna  think  bonie  lafsie  I'm  gaun  to  leave  you, 
Dinna  think  bonie  lafsie  Pm  gaun  to  leave  you, 
When  e'er  the  fun  gaeS  out  o'  fight  Pit  come- again  an  fee  you, 

Slow.  Waves  are  rifmg  o'er  the  fea,  winds  bla  loud  an'  fear  me. 
Waves  are  rifmg  oer  the  fea,  winds  bla  loud  an'  fear  me. 
While  the  waves  an  winds  do  roar,  I  am  wae  an  dreary. 
An  gin  ye  loe  me  as  ye  fay,  ye  winna  gae  an  leave  me. 

Brifk.O  Never  mair  bonie  lafsie  ~w1lM>ang  an  leave  thee, 
Never  mair  bonie  lafsie  will  I  gang  an'  leave  thee. 
Never  mair  bonie  lafsie  will  I  gang  an'  leave  thee, 
E  en  let  the  warld  gae  as  it  will.PU  ftay  at  hame  an'  cheer  thte; 

Slow.  *rae  his  hand  he  cooft  the  ftick.  1  winna  gang  an  leave  thee. 
Threw  his  plaid  into  the  neuk,  never  can  1  grieve  thee, 
Drew  his  boots  an'  flan**  them  by,  cry  el  my  lafs  be  cheerie, 
I  il  kifa  the  tear  frae  aff  thy  cheek, an  never  Ieav«  mv  dearie. 


57« 


557 


O   ^'in  I  were  fairly  shot  o*  her 


her  {'Arty-  fairly  fairly  shot  o  her. 


t  ■  i  rp 

he    were  dead   I  wad 


O  gin   I     were    fair  _.  ly    shot    o*   her   if   she    were  dead   I  wad 


n 


prayed  for  a  weight  to  her  O  gin  1  were  tair-lv  shot  o  her. 


Nane  o*  her  relations  or  fricn's  cou*d  st:<v  wt*her 
The  neighbours  and  bairns,  are  fain  to  fly  frae  her. 
An*  I  my  ain  sell  is  forc't  to  gie  way  tiU  her 
O  irin  t  were  fairly  &c 

She  gangs  aye  sae  braw,  she's  sae  nucleic  pride  in  her 
There's  no  a  goodwife  in  the  haill  country  side  like  her 
Wi*  dress  an*  wi*  drink  the  d -1  wadna  bide  wi*  her 
O  gin  f  wer*  fairly  *£c. 

If  the  time  tonjuu)  but  come  that  to  the  kirk  gate  wi*  her 
Ah  into  the  yerd  I'd  niak  my  soil  quit    o'  her 
Td  then  be  as  bKih  as  first  when  I  met  wi*  her 
O  gin  I  were  fairly  fcc. 


Hey  my  kitten  my  kitten 


577 


Chicky,cockow,  my  lily  cock; 
,  See,  fee,  fie  a  downy} 
Gallop  a  trot,  trot,  trot, 
And  hey  for  Dublin  towny. 
This  pig  went  to  the  market; 
Squeck  moufe,  moufe,  moufy; 
Shoe,  fhoe,  fhoe  the  wild  colt, 
And  hear  thy  own  dol  doufv. 


Good-morrow,  a  pudding  is  broke', 
Slavers  a  thread  o*  cryftal* 
Now  the  fweet  pofset  comes  up; 
Who  faid  my  child  was  pifs  all? 
Come  water  my  Sickens,  come  clock 
Leave  off  or  hell  crawl  you^he'll  crawl  you; 
Come,gie  me  your  hand,  ane  1*11  beat  dim; 
Wha  was  it  vexed  my  baby? 


Where  was  a  jewel  and  petty, 
VVhere  was  a  fu^ar  and  fpicy; 
Hufh  a  b;iba  in  a  cradle, 
And  v\e"ll  go  abroad  in  a  tricy, 
Did  a  papa  torment  it? 
Did.e  vex  his  own  baby?did-e? 
Hulh  a  baba  in  a  bofie; 
Take  ous  own  fucky:  did.e? 


Where  was  a  laugh. and 


craw ; 


Where  was-  a  gigling  honey? 
Good;-,  good  child  lhall  be  fed 
Kut  nrvqghty  child  fhalt  get  nonv 
Get  ye  gone,raw-head.and  bl«*ody  bones 
Here  is  a  child  that  wont  fear  ye. 
Con  e  pifsy,pif*y,  my  jewel, 
And  ik,  ik  ay,  my  deary. 


Sweetest  May. 
Written  for  this  Work  by  Hobejct  Burns. 


Proof  o*  shot  to  Birth  or  Mone};, 
Not  the  wealthy,  but  the  bonie; 
Not  high-born,  but  noble-minded, 
In  vLove*8  silken  band  can  bind  it. 


Argyll  is  my  name* 


Continued. 


679 


Yli  toast  upon  bannocks  o    barley -meal. 

r  'Vf-^ 

Adieu  to  the  courtie  of  London  town, 
For  to  my  ain  country  I  will  gang  down; 
At  the  sight  of  Kirkcakj^  ance  again, 
I'll  cock  up  my  bonnet, and  march  amain. 
O  the  muckle  de'il  tak  a*  your  noise  and  strife, 
I'm  fully  resolv'd  for  a  country  life, 
Where  a*  the  bra*  lasses,  wha  kens  me  well, 
Wilt  feed  me  wi*  bannocks  o*  barley-meal. 

I'll  quickly  lay  down  my  sword  and  ny  gun, 
And  I'll  put  my  plaid, and  my  bonnet  on, 
W7i*  my  plaiding  stockings  and  leather- heefd  shoon; 
Thcv'U  mak  me  appear  a  fine  sprightly  loon. 
And  when  I  am  drest  thus  frae  tap  to  tae, 
Hame  to  my  Maggie  I  think  for  to  gae, 
Wi*  my  claymfire  hanging  down  to  my  heel, 
To  whang  at  the  bannocka  o'  barley  meal. 

I'll  buy  a  fine  present  to  -bring  to  my  dear, 
A  pair  of  fine  garters  for  Maggie  to  wear. 
And  some  pretty  things  else,  I  do  declare. 
When  she  gangs  wi'  me  to  Paisley  fair. 
And  whan  we  are  married  we'll  keep  a  cow. 
My  Maggie  sail  milk  her,  and  T  will  plow: 
We'll  live  a'  the  winter  on  beef  and  lang-kail, 
And  whang  at  the  bannocks  o*  barley- meal. 

If  my  Maggie  should  chance  to  bring  me  a,  son, 
He's  fight  for  his  King,  as  his  daddy  has  done; 
I'll  send  him  to  Flanders  some  breeding  to  learn, 
Syne  hame  into  Scotland  and  keep  a  farm. 
And  thus  we'll  live_ and  industrious-.be, 
And  whaHl  be  fae  great  as  mv  Magt^e  and  m«% 
We'll  soon  grow  as  fat  as  a  Norway  seal, 
Wi*  feeding  on  bannocks  6*  barley-meal.   &c.  feci 


5BO 


An*  I'll  awa  to  bonny  TWeeci-fidc 


m 


56X  t  *  ^  a-w:i  to  bonny  Tweed -fide  And  fee  try  dearie,  come 


Lively 


mm 


hate  to   lead   apes   be  _  low.  While    young     an     fair  1*11 


m< 

ike  it  11 

y          1       -w  W-^-J 

ly  care  to  fe 
»  m 

-4 

C 

ure  my  ft 

lima 

jo;  I'm 

no   fie  a 

& — 

— — 

0  

 1 

S — 

4^ —  — 

fool  to  let  iry  blood  cool  an   fyne  to  lead  apes 


Few  words  bonny  lad 
Will  eithly^perfuade, 

Tho*  blueing  L  daftly  fay  no 
Oae  on  with  your  ftrain 
And  doubt  not  to  garn, 

For  1  hate  to  lead  apes  below. 
Urtty'd  to  a  man, 
f)o  whatever  we  can, 

Wc  never  can  thrive  or  dow. 
Then  I  **iH  do  well. 
Do  better  what  will, 

And  lit  tkeui  Lead  apes  below. 


Our  time  is  precious, 
And  gods  are  gracious 

That  beauties  upon  us  beftow 
*Tis  not  to  be  thought 
We  got  them  for  nought 

Or  /to  be  fet  up  for  a  fhow. 
'Tis  carried  by  votes. 
Come  kilt  up  your  coats 

And  let  us  to  Edinburgh  go, 
Where  fhe  that's  bonny 
May  catch  a  Johny, 

And  never  lead  apes  below. 


Gently  bliw  8Ce 


581 


v562"S   *        C3mtl\    blaw  }e    eastern     breeds,  Hide  )our  piercing 


Slow 


breath     like  store    An'    cauH    Decern  _  br r   frost    that  freezes 


(torus  w 


Krae  the   fair  maid    I    adore.      O    she's   bonny   bon_ny  bonnj 


O    she's    bon  .  m     and    swtet       to     see     lair    the     bud  art' 


r—  J 


is 


blossom  Ave   the    bhthe   blinks    in    her   cf . 


Wae  winters  scoure,  *h<  simmer  torn  cut  Keds  her  cheek,  and  sweets  her  feature 

Hoarymists  that  point  the  air  Gfertcin  nn  like  ditnaondM  bri^l  i 

f'rae  yrief  o  mind  that  aft  does  foment  Handsome  shape,  the  choice  o  nature 

Making  life  a  drean  care  Wonder  o'tfoe  day  and  nijrht 

O  she's  bomiy&c.  0  sheV  fconnvAc. 

>br  she's  as  the  new  bfawn  rose  If,  but  this  bud  and;  bonm  blossom 

That's  nourish  cl  with  the  simmers  sun  !  could  say'twereonh  mine 

Her  ■miles  is  like  the  sweet  re  pose  lit  plant  it  deep  within  my  bosom 

Man  seeks  when  his  last  sand  is  run  An'  round,  ny  heart  Id  it  entwine 

O  she's  bonny  &c.  O  she's  bonnv  &c. 


584 


In  yon  garden  c£c 


v563"V*    In  Jon  ga^en  fine  an  gay,  Picking  lilies     a'     the  day 


gathering  floors  of    ii-ka  hue,  I    wift    na  then  what  love  coud  do. 

Where  love  is  planted  there  it  grows, 
It  buds  and  blows  like  any  rofe 
It  has  a  fweet  and  pleafant  fmell, 
No  flow'r    on  earth  can  it  excel. 

I  put  my  hand  into  the  bulh, 

And  thought  the  fweeteft  rofe  to  find, 

But  prick'd  my  finger  to  the  bone. 

And  left  the  fweeteft  rofe  behind.  ...... 

The  poor  Pedhr. 


364^     'l*WJB  was  a  nobIe  udy  ^° fair  looking  ou! o£ her  Mnd(?w  fo 


Lively 


high    And  there  fhe  fpv'd  a  poor  Pedlar  coming  finging  out  o'er  the 

1'  HI'1- 


Uc    Ire    lee   coming   fing_  ing    out    o'er    the  lee. 


Continued. 


She  call'd  upon  her  fervant  man. 

Her  fervant  that  on  her  did  wait, 

**Gae  open  the  yetts,  both  braid  and  wide, 

"And  let  the  poor  pedlar  in    in  in, 

"And  let  the  poor  pedlar  in. 
He  fet  the  yetts,  both  braid  and  wide. 
And  let  the  poor  pedlar  in; 
And  then  fhe  took  him  by  the  coat  neuke. 
And  fhe  led  him  from  room  to  room  room  room, 

And  fhe  led  him  &c. 
Till  he  came  to  my  ladys  room, 
My  ladys  room  where  fhe  lay; 
**l  wad  gie  a'  my  pack  he  faid, 
"lor  the  night  of  a  gay  lady,  lady; 

"For  the  night  &c. 
"Wilt  thou  gie  me  my  pack  again, 
"My  pack,  and  my  pack  pinn, 
"An  thou  gie  me  my  pack  he  faid, 
"1*1 1  gie  thee  both  broach  and  ring,  ring  ring, 

"HI  gie  thee  both  &c, 
"I'll  no  gie  thee  thy  pack  again, 
"Thy  pack  nor  thy  pack  pinn; 
'Til  no  gie  thee  thy  pack  fhe  faid. 
"Tho*  thou  wad  greet  till  thine  e)es  gae  bltfi  gae  bl 

"Tho*  thou  wad  &c. 
Out  then  fpak  the  noble  lord, 
Out  of  his  bow'r  within, 
"O  who  is  this  into  my  houfe 
"That  makes  fuch  a  noife  and  dinn  dinn  dinn. 

"That  makes  &c. 
"As  1  came  through  your  garden  Sir, 
"I  pulfd  fome  of  your  flowers; 
**A  box  of  fpice  was  in  my  pack, 
"And  1  borrowed  a  morter  of  yours  of -yours. 

"And  1  borrowed  &c. 
"Gi*e  the  poor  pediar  hi3  pack  again, 
"His  pack  and  his  pack  pinn, 
"Keep  nathing  frae  a  poor  pedlar, 
"Who  has  a'  his  living  to  win  to  .win. 

"Who  has  &c. 
She  took  the  pack  by  the  twa  neuks, 
And  fhe  flang  it  out  o'er  the  wa* 
*Tpo*  my  footh,  quo  the  poor  pedlar, 
"My  pack  it  has  gotten  a  fa*  fa*  fa\ 

"My  pack  Ate. 
He  took  the  pack  upon  his  back, 
Went  finging  out  o'er  the  lee, 
'O  I  haV  gotten  my  pack  again, 
*And  the  kifs  of  a  gay  lady  lady, 
"And  the  kifs  &c. 


684 


You  ask  me  charming  fair. 


^g^J        You  ask  me  charming  fair  Why  thus  1  pensive    £0.  _  >rom 


whence  proceeds^myt  care  What  nourishes  my  woe. 
  ~   ^  »    *      m      ,  «-f-=r 


seek'st  the   cause  to    find  _    of  i 


"  Is     that    1     en  -  dure  Ahi 


It  needs  no  magfc  art, 

To  know  whence  o:y  alfcrnis, 
R*  a  mine  your  own  heart, 

Go  read  them  in  your  charms, 
Whene'er  the  youthful  quoir, 

%lrift£  the  vale  advance. 
To  raise,  at  your  desire* 

The  lay*  or  form  the  dance. 

Hi  nefiVent  to  c-a<  h. 

You  some  kind  irrace-  atford, 
(Untie  in  deed  of  speech, 

A  smile  or  friendly  word. 
Whilst  on  my  love  y  ou  put 

No  value;  On  the.  same. 
As  if  my  fire  was*  but 

Sop*  paltry  villa**  flame. 


At  this  my  colour  flies, 

Mv  breast  with  sorrow  heaves. 
The  pain  1  would  disguise. 

Nor  man  nor  maid  deceives. 
Mv  love  stands  all  display  d. 

Too  strong  for  art  to  hide. 
How  soon  the  hearts  b«tra\  *d 

With  suc  h  a  clue  to  guide  I 

Ho*  cruel  is  my  fate, 

A 1  fronts  1  could  have  born, 
Kound  com  fort  in  jour  hate, 

■  Or  triumph*!  in  }  our  scorn. 
Kut  whilst  1  thus  adore, 

I'm  driv'n  to  wild  despair; 
Indifference  is  more 

Than  raging  love  can  bear. 


O  ken  ye  what  Me?  o'  the  mill  has  gotten.585 


Wr.tten  for  this  Work  by  Robert  Burns. 


O  ken  ye  how  Meg  o  the  railI  was  „„,rried. . 
And  ken  ye  how  Mt*  o*  the  „,;„  wae  ni..,rrif  d 

And  SIa  I,     r  Clerk  *  «  carried. 

And  ,hat8  how  M<g  J  the  mill  wa.  roamed 
O  ken  ye  how  Meg  o'  the  ,„i||  was  bedded. 
An  ken  ye  fcow  Meg  „'  ,he  mill  was  bedded- 

And  that,  how  Meg  o*  the  roill  was  bedded. 


How  fweet  isr  tlie  fcene. 


(567  "T*    How  fweet  18  the  fcene  at  t*lc  dawning  o'   morning,  Hoi 

BT 


t"~ic — n — f"*- 

*      I*     g     ■  ['-- 

^      lafsic,  I  cflnna,  frae  Ir 

ve  2 

n  fr 

ae  beauty   I  i 

icver  can  flee . 

O  lang  ha'e  I  lo'd  ,  he*-  an  loe ,   her  fu*  dearly. 
An'  aft  hae  I  preed  o*  her  bonny  fwcet  mowi 
An  aft  hae  I  read  in  her  ee  blinkin*  clearly, 
A  language  that  bade  rr.e  be  conftant  an*  true! 
Then  others  may  doat  on  their  fond  Var*Iy  treafure, 
For  peif,  fill)-  pelf,  they  may  brave  the  rude  fea; 
To  love  my  fweet  lafsie  be  mine  the  dear  pleafure 
Wi*  her  let  me  live  and  wi*  her  let  me  die! 


Sure  my  Jean. 


687 


I  ha*e  fcen  the  floweret  fpringin 
Gaily  on  the  funny  lea; 
I  hae  heard  the  mavis  finftin* 
■S' weedy  on  the  hawthorn  tree: 
Hut  my  Jeanie,  peerlefs  dearie.  , 
Shea  the  flower  attracts  mint  ee; 
VVhan  fhe  tunes  her  voire  fae  cheerio, 
She's  the  mavis  dear  to  mel 


5HH 


How  fweet  this  lone  vale. 


P 


5 


\539  ^ovv  ^wcet    *^*8  l°ne  Va*e    *nd    how   footh- ing  to 

1  * 


Very  Slow 


feeling  yon  Nightingales  notes  which  in  me_lo_dy  me!t  ob 
±T-r--  T-r  '  *■ 


I  J1,  j  J1  la 


livion  of  woe  oer  my  mind  gently  ftealing  a    paufe     from  keen 


ii h  a  moment        felt.     The  moons  yef_low  Ii#ht  oer  the 


0  u- 


Ah    near  the  fad    foot  Ma_rv  fleeos  in  h7r 


ft i  1  i  lake  is  {leaping   Ah    near  the  fad    fpot  Ma_rv  fleeps  in  h7r 


1 


tomb  a  gain  the  heart  fwells,  the  eve  flows  vsith  weeping  and  the 


5 


<5 


ft  j|J: ' 


fweets  of  the   vale    are    all    Chad  -  ow*d    with  gloom. 


Jockeys  taen  the  parting  kifs. 

Written  for  this  Work  bv  Robert  Hums. 


689 


A  little  HveK 


-  n*" 

1  f~~'  

p    I  - 

bU-  - 

\  1 

IP  »a  gane! 

f  t  n 

And  w 

ith    him  is 

* 

a 

-J — d-- 

my  blifs 

— — f  fm 

Nought  but 

-    -  ^TK  .... 

When  the  fhadt£>  of  evening  creep 

Oer  the  day's   fair,  glad  fame  eY, 
.Sound  and  fafel)    may  he  llee»p, 

Sweetly  blythe  his  wanke-nin^  be 
He  Kill  think  on   her  he  loves,' 

Pond!/  he'll  repeat  her  name; 
For   whare'er  he  drffant  roves 

Jockev's  heart  rs  ffill  at  hame. 


59() 


What's  that  to  you.  , 


*.      \K    Iranv   and    I   have    toild     the  live 


m 


(571  "V*      M>-  Jean>'   an<*    *   nave    tQttd     the     five  -  lang  fummer 


of    the      hay.  Her    kurchy    was     of    hoi  _  land  clear  Ty'd 


Her  frockings  were  of  Keriy  green, 

\*  tight  as  ony  filk: 
O  firk  a  leg  was  never  feen, 

Her  fkin  was  white  as  milk; 
H<  r  hair  was  black  as  ane  coiila*  wifh, 

And  fwret  fweet  was  her  mou; 
Oh.  Jeany    daintily  can  kifs, 

Knt   what's  that  to  you? 

The  rofe  and  lily  baith  combine 

To  make  my  jeany  fair, 
There  is  no  btnnifon  like  mine, 

I  have  amaift  nne  rare; 
Only  I  fear  my  jeany  8  face 

May  caufe  mae  men  to  rue, 
And  thai  may  par  me  fay;  Mas. 

Hut      hat's  th»t  to  von? 


Conceal  thy  beauties  if  thou  can, 

Hide  that  fweet  face  of  thine, 
That  I  may  only  be  the  man 

Enjoys  thefe  looks  divine. 
O  do  not  proftitute,  my  dear, 

Wonders  to  common  view, 
And  I,  with  faithful  heart,  fhall  fwear 

For  ever  to  be  true. 

King  Solomon  had  wives  enew. 

And  mony  a  concubine; 
But  I  enjoy  a  blifs  mair  true; 

His  joys  were  fhort  of  mine: 
And  Jeany s  happier  than  they, 

She  feldom  wants  her  due; 
All  debts  of  love  to  her  1*11  pay, 

And  what^  that  to  you? 


Chorus. 


Little  wat  ye  wha's  coming. 


691 


^572  "S  *        Lit  _  tie    wat    ye    *ha's    com  _  ing       little  wat  ye 


Brifk 


m 


ye     wha's    coming  Jock   and  1am  and 


wha's   coming    little  wat 


I 


a's     com_  ing.      Dun  — cans    com  _  ing     Don  _  aids     com  _  ing 


mm 


Co  _  lins    com      ing     Hon     aids    coming  DougaldV  coming 


i 


Lauch  _  lan's    com  _  ing     A    lif  _  ter    and    a's  coming 


Borland  and  his  men's  coming, 
The  Camerons  and  McLeans  coming, 
The  Gordons  and  McGregors  coming 
A*  the  Dunywanies'  coming 

Little    wat  ye,  &c. 

M?Oilvrey  of  Drumglafs  is  coming. 

wigtons  coming, Nithsdales  coming, 
Carnwaths  coming,  Kenmures  coming, 
Derwent water  and  f offers  coming 
Withrington  and  Nairn's  coming 

Little"  wat  ye,  &c. 
Blyth  Cowhill  and  a's  coming* 


The  Laird  of  M?  kitofh  is  coming, 
M?  Crabie  and  M?  Donalds  coming, 
The  M?  Ken/ies  and  M?Pherfbns  coming 
A'  the  wild  M?  Craws*  coming, 
Little  wat  ye,  &c, 
Donald  Gun  and  a's  coming. 

rr^  big, 

They  gloom,  they  glowr.they  look  fae 
At  ilka  ftroke  they  'll  fell  a  Whig; 
They'll  fright  the  fuds  of  the  Ibckpud* 
For  mony  a  buttock  bare's  coming. 
Little  wat  ye,  fee. 


()  leave  novels  SCc. 

By  Burns. 


573. 


Q  m 

S  4 

*  ° 

e    no  _vels,  ye 

1  ,1 

J 

Ma 

uchline    be  lles,  Yure    faf  - 

Lively 


<       at  your 

fpinrting  wheel;  Such 

J  r 

m  t  % 

witching  books,  are 

'J  .|J- — * 
baited  hoc 

=§m 

)ks  for  rakifh 

-i  4  

«==XL  j — . — 1| 

f  1 

*         A        a  1 

i — I*" — r 

-r-r — r — ^ — r^-r 

;\V-  J—— I 

rooks  lil 

ce 

H 

ob  \ 

lofsgiel. 

Your 
1  p  

fine     Tom   Jones  And 

s£^=3  ; 

_  ^ 

— . — 0 

d==l=J 

Grand  ifon's  thev  make  your  youthful  fancies  ret  I  thev  heat  your 
<*■      brains,   and  fire  j  our  Veins  and  then  you  re  prey  for  Rob  Mofsgiel. 


p— F — 

Bew 

1—  . — # 

are  a  ton'g 

ue  tha 

s  fnioc 

)  t  h  1  \  -  hu  n  u: ; 

A  heart  that  warmly  feems  to  feel; 
That  feelin  heart  but  arks  a  prut, 

Tin  rakifh  art  in  Hob  Mofstfiel. 
The  frank  addrefs,  the  foft  carel\ 

\r<  work  than  poifoned  darts  of  fteel, 
'I  he  frank   ad  Ipefs,  and  polifefse, 

Are  all  fimfse  in  Hob  MoftgieL 


O  lay  thy  loof  in  mine  lafs. 

Choru^   Written  for  this  Work  bv  Robert  Burn, 


£93 


rw«  monie  a  Iaft  has  broke  wft 

I  hat  for  a  blink  I  hae  loed  beft; 
But  thou  art  queen  within  my  breaft 
J'or  ever  to  remain. 
O  Uy  thy  loof  &c 


£94 


576 


Saw  ye    the  Thane  SCc. 


*     Saw  ye    the  Thane  o    meikle  pride,  Red  anger    in  his 


ee?       I    saw  him  not   nor  care  he  cry'd  Red  anger  frights  na  me. 


1  have  stooti  whar  honour  badeTho  death  troc 


trod  on  his  heel;  Mean 


<       is  the  crest  that  stoops  to  fear,  nae  si 

lv.  1       ' I      V\          1  -  IP 

c  mav  ] 

m 

)uncan  feel. 

Hark!  hark!  or  was  it  but  the  wind,    Restoreagain  that  blooming  rose, 

That  through  the  ha'  did  sing;  Your  rude  hand  pluckt  awa; 

Hark.  harki.agen,a  warlike  sound,        Hestore  again  his  Mary  fair, 

The  black  woods  round  do  ring.       Or  you  shall  rue  his  fa*. 
'Tis  na  for  naught, bauld  Duncan  cry'd, 

mting  on  the  wind.  Three  strides  the  gallant  Duncan  tuk, 

.Syne  up  he  started  frae  his  seat,  He  struck  his  forward  spear: 

A  throng  of  spears  behind.  Gae  tell  thy  master,  beard  less,  youth, 

We  are  nae  wont  to  fear. 
Ha«te,  baste,  my  valiant  hearts,  he  said ,  He  comes  na  on  a  wassail  rout, 

Anes  mair  to  follow  me;  Of  revel,  sport,  and  play; 

We H  meet  yon  shooters  by  the  burn,  Our  swords  i^art  faaie  proclaim  us  men, 

I  guess  wha  they  may  be.  Lang  ere  this  rucfu' day. 

But  wha  is  he  that  speids.Sae  fast, 

frae  the  siaw  marching  thrang?        The  rose  I  pluckt  o*  right  is  mine, 
Sae  frae  the  mirk  cloud  shoots  abeam,     Our  hearts  together  grew, 


The  sky's  blue  face  alang 

Sowfi  messenger  it  is,  mayhap-, 
Then  not  at  peace  I  froi>. 

My  c» aster,  Duncan  bade  nu  rin. 
And  nay  these  words  to  vou. 


Like  twa  sweet  roses  on  ae  stak 
Frae  hate  to  love  she  flew. 

Swift  as  a  winged  shaft  he  sped; 
Bald  Duncan  said  in  jeer, 

Gae  tell  thy  master,  beard  less  youth, 
We  are  nae  wont  to  fear.^r  Xir 


Go   plaintive  sounds. 


69  5 


now  to  some  e.n  _  chant- ing   strain  th 


e     smile  that 


at  triumph: 

4**~  


Yea,  plaintive  sounds,  yet,  yet  delay, 

Howe'er  my  love  repine, 
Let  that  gay  minute  pass  away, 

The  next  perhaps  is  thine. 
Yes  plaintive  sounds,  no  longer  crost, 

Your  griefs  shall  s«on  be  o'er, 
Her  cheek  undimpled  now,  has  lost 

The  smile  it  lately  wore. 


Yes,  plaintive  sounds,  she  now 

lis  now  your  time  to  move; 
«-»aay  to  soften  all  her  pow'rs, 
And  be  that  softness,  |ove  ' 


is  y  ours 


Cease  plaintive  aounds,your  task  is  done 

That  anxious  tender  air 
Proves  o'er  her  heart  the  congest  won, 

1  see  j,ou  melting  there. 

Return  ye  smiles  return  again, 

Return  each  sprightly  grace, 
I  yield  up  to  your  charming  reign, 

All  that  enchanting  .face. 
.  I  take  no  outward  shew  amiss, 

Rove  where  they  will,  her  eves, 
•Still  lef  her  smiles  each  shepherd  bless, 

•So  she  but  hear  my  sighs. 


Bruce    has    aften     led,  "Wei 


to    your    go_  ry  bed 


<         Or    to    vie  _  to 

0 

'  "  l-    r    t-  = 

No  ws    the  dav 

.ii  r  /  r 

and     nowrs    the  hour; 

*  f  7  '  r  i 

4 

"Wha  will  be  a  traitor  knave? 

Wha  can  fill  a  cowards  grave? 
'  Wha  fne  bafe  as  be  a  flave? 

Traitor^  coward i  turn  and  flee! 

1  Wha, for  Scotland's  king  and  law 
freedom's  fword  will  ftrongly  draw, 
'Free  man  ftand,  or  free-man  fa* 
"Caledonian!  on  wi'  me! 


By  oppression's  woes  and  pains! 
'By  your  Tons  in  fervile  chains! 
'We  will  drain  our  deareft  veins, 
"But  they  fhall  be-fhall  be  free! 

Lay  the  proud  ufurpers  low! 
'Tyrants  fall  in  every  foe; 
Liberty's  in  every  blow! 
"Forward!  let  us  do,  or  die!** 


B 


Farewell  ye.  fields  SCc. 


mi 


578 


farewell  Ve  fields,an  meadows  green,  the  bleft  retreats  of 


The  azure  fky  the  hills  around, 
Gave  double  beauty  fo  the  fcene 

The  lofty  fpires  of  Banff  in  view, 
On  every  fide  the  waving  grain: 

The  tales  of  !ove  my  Jamie  told, 

fuoh  a  faff  an  moving  ftrain, 

Hare  fo  engaged  my  tender  heart, 
lm  loth  to  leave  the  place  again. 


But  if  'he  fates  will  be  Cue  kind, 

As  favour  my  return  orco  more, 
for  to  enjoy  the  peace  o'  mind, 

In  thofe  retreats  1  had  before: 
No-.v,  fare*  -  !  1  Banff]  the  nimble  (feeds 

Do  bear  me  hence,  1  muft  awaj, 
Yet  time  perhaps  may  bring  ir.e  back, 

To  part  ivatc  ma  it  from  fcencs  fogx 


698 


()  beard  ve  e'er  of  a  silly  blind  Harper, 


579  -c  ° 

heard  ye  of  a  silly  Harper,  Livd  lon^  in  Loch _ma  _ ben 
A  little  Lively 


 kj 

w — f 

"1     "1  V 

town,  How  he  die 

\  gang  1 

o  fair  England,To  .steal  King  .Henrys  wanton  brown? 
r    |     |t  f- — j  —  fy~-f  * 

V  ^  i 

_u-J — 4 — 
-r — -  

;  * 

i  !  4 

But  first  he  gaed  to  his  giide-wile 
WiV  the  speed  that  he  cou'd  thole; 
This  wark,quo  he,  will  nevor  work, 
Without  a  mare  that  has  a  foul. 
This  wark,  Xtc. 

Quo'  she,  thou  has  a  guc|e  grey  mare, 
That  H  rin  o'er  hills  baith  low  K  hie; 
Gae. tak  the  grey  mare  in  thy-  hand. 
And  leave  the  foal  at  hame  wi'me. 
Gac  tak',  $ifc. 

And  tak*  a  halter  in  thy  hose, 
And  o'  thy  purpose'dmna  fail; 
Hut  Wtip  it  o'er  the  wanton's  nose; 
And  tie  her  to  the  grey  mare's  tail: 
Hut  wap,  fee. 

Sync  cu  her  our  at  \  nit  back  yeate, 
Qer  dios's  and  muir  and  ilka  dale, 
Km  .^lic'll  ne'er  let  the  wanton  bite. 


Till  she  come  hame  to  her  ain  foal. 
For  she'll,  &c. 

So  he  is  up  to  England  irane, 
Even  as  last  as  he  run  hie, 
Till  he  came  to  King  Henry's  yeate; 
And  wha'  was  there  but  King  Henry? 
Till  tie,  &cr. 

Come  in, quo'  he, thou  silly-  blind  Harper; 
And  ol  thy  harping  let  me  hear, 
Ol  by  my  sooth,  quo'  the  silly  blind  Harp* 
I'd  rather  hae  stabling  for  my  mare. 
Ol  b\  my,  <Vc. 

The  King  looks  o'er  his  left  shoulder, 
And  says  unto  his  stable  groom, 
Gae  tak  the  silly  poor  Harper's  mare. 
And  tie  Iter  side  my  wanton  brown. 
Gae  tak,  &c. 


Continued 


699 


And  ay  he  harped,and  ay  he  carpit,       Let  in  thy  master  and  his  mare. 
Till  a*  the  Lords  gaed  through, the  floor,    Rise, quo'  &c. 
They  thought  the  music  was  sae  sweet, 

That  they  forgat  the  stable  door.  Then  up  she  raise,  pat  on  her  claes 


They  thought,&c. 

And  ay  he  harpit,and  ay  he  carpit, 
Till  a*  the  nobles  were  sound  asleep, 
Than  quietly  he  took  aff  his  shoon, 
And  saftly  down  the  stair  did  creep. 
Than  quietly  <fcc. 


And  Iookit  out  through  the  lock  hole; 
Ol  by  my  sooth  then  quoth  the  lass, 
Our  mare  has  gotten  a  brawbi^  foal. 
O!  by  my  /fee. 


Come  haud  thy  peace, then  foolish  lass 
The  moons  but  glancing  in  thy  ec, 
I'll  wad  my  hat  11  fee   gainst  a  groat „ 
lt%  bigger  than  e'er  our  foal  will  be 
Til  wad  &c. 


S>  ne  to  the  stable  door  he  hies, 
Wi  tread  as  light  as  light  cou'd  be, 
And  whan  he  opencl  and  gaed  in, 

There  he  fand  thirty  good  ateedsfc three.  The  neighbours  too  that  heard  th 


And  whan  tic. 

He  took  the  halter  frae  his  hose, 
And  of  his  purpose  did  na'  fail; 
He  slipt  it  o'er  the  Wantons  nose, 
And  tied  it  to  his  grey  mares  tail. 
He  slipt  &c. 

He  ca'd  her  Out  at  yon  back  )  eate, 
O'er  moss  and  muir  &  ilka  dale, 
And  she  loot  ne'er  the  wanton  bite, 
Hut  held  her  sti^lgaun  at  her  tail. 
And  she  &c. 

The  grey  mare  was  right  swift  o'  fit, 
And  didna  fail  to  find  the  way, 
K>r  she  was  atLochmabcn  v  eate, 
rV  lunjr  three  hours  ere  it  was  day. 
For  she  &c. 

When  she  came  to  the  Harpers  door, 
There  she  gae  mony  a  nidur  and  snear, 
Hise,qUo'  the  wife,  thou  lafcy  lass, 


e  noise. 


Cried  to  the  wife  to  put  her  in, 
By  my  sooth,  then  quoth  the  wife, 
She's  better  than  ever  he  rad*  on  . 
By  my  &c. 

But  on  the  morn  at  fair  day  light, 
When  they  had  ended  a'  their  chear, 
King  Henry's  wanton  brown  was  stawn 
And  eke  the  poor  old  Harpers  mate. 
King  Henry's  &c. 

Alaceialaceisays  the  silly  blind  Harper, 
A  lace!  alacelthat  1  came  here, 
Tn  Scotland  I've  tint  a  braw  cowfe  foal, 
In  England  thcyve  stawn  myguid  grey 
In  Scotland  &c.  (mare. 

,  (per 
Come  had  thy  tongue, thou  silly  blind  har 

And  of  thy  alacing  Jet  me  be, 

K>r  thou  shall  get  a  better  mare. 

And  wee  I  paid  shall  thy  cowtc  foal"  be. 

^br  thou  shall  get  a  better  mare, 

And  weel  paid  shall  thy  cowte  foal  he. 


GOO 


My  Nannie  O 

By  Burns. 


P4- 


Dannie  O  to  Nannie  0;  Hi  get  my  plaid  an  out  Hi  fteal.An  o'er  the  hill  toNannieC 


My  Nannie's  charming  fweet,  and  young, 

Nae  artfu  wiles  to  win  ye  O; 
May  ill  befa'  the  blattering  tongue, 

That  wad  beguile  my  Nannie  O: 
Her  face  is  fair,  her  heart  is  true, 

As  fpotlefs  as  (he's  bonnie  O; 
The  op'ning  gowan  wat  wi*  dew, 

Nae  purer  is  than  Nannie  O. 

f 

A  country  lad  is  my  degree, 

And  few  there  be  that  ken  me  O; 

But  what  care  I  how  few  they  be, 
I'm  welcome  ay  to  Nannie  O: 


My  riches  a* 8  my  penny  fee, 

And  I  maun  guide  it  cannie  O; 
But  waild's  gear  ne'er  troubles  me, 

My  thoughts  are  a'^  my  Nannie  0< 

Our  auld  guidman  delights  to  view, 

His  ftieep  an  kye  thrive  bonnie  O; 
But  I'm  as  blythe  that  hauds  his  plough 

An  has  nae  care  but  Nannie  O; 
Come  well,  come  woe,  I  care  na  by, 

I'll  tak'  what  Heav'n  will  fend  me  O; 
Nae  ither  care  in  life  have  1, 

But  live,  and  love  mv  Nannie  O. 


night    did    give    no    light    Which  did 


plex 


Then  under  her  window  I  came, 
I  gently  call'd  her  by  her  name, 

Then  up  she  rose,  put  on  her  clothes. 
And  whisper*d  to  me  slow, 

.Saying, go  from  my  window.  Love,  do. 

My  father  and  my  mother  aie  asleep, 
And  if  they  chance  to  hear  you  speak, 

There  will  be  nocht  but  great  abuse, 
Wi'  many  a  bitter  blow, 

And  it's  go  from  my  window,  Lovev  go. 

ft    ft    ft    ft    ft    ft    ft    ft    ft   ft   ft  <ft    ft  4 


The  rain  rmsdown  8C< 


<         The  rain  nns  down  thro'  Mirry-Iand  toune.Sae  c 

/"V  k^T  *  "  f  1"  "     1              i  1  

Kvk-i4^ 41 — =  1  1         ■■  m — ^-4- 

oes  it  down  the 

Slow 

ha.      Sae  does  the  ladsof  Mirryland  town  When  they  plav  at  the  ba 


Then  cut' and  cam  the  Jews  dochter, 
Said,  will  ye  com  in  and  dine! 

I  winnno  cum  in,  I  winnae  cum  in, 
Without  my  play  feres  nim  . 

•She  pow'd  an  apple  reid  and  white  . 

To  intice  the  joung  thing  in: 
She  pow'd  an  apple  white  and  reid, 

And  that  the  sweet  bairn    did  win. 


When  bells  wer  rung, and  mass  was  aunj 
And  every  lady  went  hame: 

Than  ilk  lady  had  her  young  son. 
But  Lady  Helen  had  nane. 

She  rowel  her  man  til  her  about. 
And  sair  sair  gan  she  weep: 

And  she  ran  into  the  Jewis  castle, 
When  they  wer  all  asleep. 


And  she  has  tame  out  a  little  pen-knife, My  bonny  Sir  Hew, my  pretty  Sir  Hew, 
And  low  down  by  her  gair,  ^  I  pray  thee  to  me  speak: 

•She  has  twm'd  the  young  thing  o  his  life*'0  lady  rinn  to  the  de*p  draw -well 
A  wo!  1  he  ne'er  spake  mair.  *Y»inye  your  son  wad  seek'' 

Ai  d  out  and  cam  the  thick  thick  bluid,  Lady  Helen  ran  to  the  deep  draw  well, 

And  cut  and  cam  the  thin;  And  knelt  upon  her  knee. 

And  out  and  cam  the  bonny  herts  bluid;  My  bonny  Sir  Hew,  an  \e  be  here  . 


I  hair  was  nae  life  left  in. 

She  laid  him  on  a  dressing  borde, 
And.drest  him  like  a  swine. 

And  laughing  said,gae  now  and  play 
With  your  sweet  play-feres  nine. 

S'Ik  rowd  him  in  a  cake  of  lead, 
Bade  him  ly  still  and  sleep. 

She  cast  him  in  a  deep  draw-well, 
Wis  fifty  fathom  deep. 


1  pray  thee  speak  to  me. 

The  lead  is  wondrous  heavy,  mither. 
The  well  is  wondrous  deep, 

A  keen  pen-knife  sticks  in  my  hert, 
A  word  1  downae  sp«  ik. 

^«e  hame,  gae  hame,  my  mother"  dear, 
retch  me  my  winding- sheet* 

And  at  the  back  c>  Mirry-land  toune. 
Its  there  we  twa  sail  meet. 


in    the   mirk    and  d 


reary    drift  The    hills   and    £lens    arc  lost, 


hit  » 


584 


()  turn  away  those  cruel  eyes 


O     turn  a -way  those  cm^.el  eves,  The  stars  of  my  un 


A  little  Lively 


m  m  t 


^do^  ing  Or 

J.  J  Ji 

death,  in 

such  a 

# 

bright 

dis 

ipii 

-  guise,  May 

impious  pride,  Who  dare  contemn   thy  g!o__ry;     It    was  my 


j-iji  j-  j  f|j] 


fall  that  de- i-fy*d  Thy  name    and  .seai'd    thy   sto_  .  ry. 


j-  if.fr  cj_r ■  r  i   i  ■  ifflf-fr^ 


Yet  no  new  sufferings  can  prepare 

A  higher  praise  to  crown  thee; 
Tho*  my  first  death  proclaim  thee  fair, 

My  second  wilt  dethrone  thee. 
Lovers  Will  doubt  thou  canst  entice 

No  other  for  thy  fuel; 
And  if  thou  burns t  one  victim  twice. 

Think  thee  both  poor  and  cruel. 


your   hair,    Gin    ye'l!    con  _  sent    to    be     my      bride  Nor 


I  t  i  .• 


K>r  1  have  pledg'd  my  virgin  troth, 
Brave  Arthurs  fate  to  share, 

And  he  has  -iVn  to  me  his  heart 
a*  its  virtues  rare. 

I  he- mind  vvhase  every  wish  is  pure, 
*:«r  dearer  is  to  me, 

And  etr  I  m  forced  to  break  ny  faith 
\  U  lay  me  down  and  d; 


.So  trust  me  when  I  swear  to  thee, 

By  a*  that  is  on  high. 
Though  ye  had  a*;this  warlds  gear, 

My  heart  ye  cou  Id  na  buy ; 
for  langest  life  can  ne*er  repny, 

The  love  he  bears  to  me; 
And  eer  I  m  forced  to  break  my  troth, 

VU  la)  me  down  and  di>. 


606 


There   whs  a  bonie  las.s 
b\  H.  Burns. 


No  Churchman  am  f.  By  i.  Bums 


5H7  "\        ^°  Churchman  am  1  for  to  rail  and  to  write.No  statesman  nor  seldierlsi 


lively 


Continued. 


GO} 


those  that  are  here  And  a  bottle  like  this,  are  my  glory  and 


care, 


Here  passes  the  Squire  on  his  brother  Ins  horse, 
I  hf  ,r  Centum  per  Centum,  the  Cit  with  his  purse- 

But  s,e  you  the  Crown  how  it  waves  in  the  air 
I  hen  a  big_bel!y*d  bottle  still  eases  my  care/ 
I  he  wife  of  my  bosom,  alas!  she  did  die; 

For  sweet  consolation  to  church  I  did  fly'; 

Mound  that  old  .Solomon  proved  it  fan  ,  * 

Th;,t  a  bit*  belfycf  bottle's  a  cure  for  all  can 

l  once  was  persuaded  a  venture  to  make 
A  letter  informed  me  that  all  was  to  wreck- 
Hut  jhc  pursy  old  landlord  just  waddled  up  flairs 
With  a  glorious  bottle  that  ended  n.v  cares 
Life  s  cares  they  are  comforts  maxim  c,OKn 

Z  ^.fr^  What  d>I        him'tk«  f,  <  gown, 

And  faith  I  agree  w,th  th'  old  prig  to  a  hair- 

*or  a  btg  belly »d  bottles  a  heav'n  of  care.  ' 

A  S!an/a  added  in  a  Mason  l.od-e: 
Then  fill  up  a  bumper  and  make  it  orrflow. 
And  honours  Masonic  prepair-for  to  thiow; 
May  every  true  bro.her  of       Compa8„  and  Square 
Wave  a  b,g  belly'd  bottle  when  fcaWd  with  care. 

*>  Voun«s(NTight  Thoughts. 


6()8 


The  Highlanders  lament 


i588'*C         ^    Soldier  for  gallant  achievements  renown'd,  Revolvcl  in  des 


1 


Very  S.h 


* 


pair  the  campaigns  of  his  youth;  I  hen  beating  his  bosom  &  sigh_ing  pro- 


§ 


found,That  malice  itself  might  have  melted  to  ruth.  Are  these  he  exclaimcl  the  re- 


m 


suits 'of  my  toil,  Jrt  want  &  obaatL'iljrthus  to  ret  ire?  P  or  this  did  compassion  re- 


i 


strain  me  from  spoil,  When  earth  was  all  carnage  and  heaven  was  on  fire? 


n-  #         &  £r 

The  suns  bright  effulgence,  the  fragrance  of  air 
-The  varfd  hori/on  henceforth  1  abhore, 
Give  mr  death  the  sole  boon  of  a  wretch  in  despair. 
Which  fortune  can  offer  or  nature  implore. 
To  madness  impel fd  by  his  griefs  as  he  spoke, 
And  darting  around  him  a  look  of  disdain, 
Down  headlong  he  leapt  from  a  hea\en  towring  rock, 
And  sleeps  where  the  wretched  forbear  to  complain. 

Supposed  to  have  been  written  in  the  year  1746 


father,  quo'  she,  Mither,  quo*  she, 

Do  what  ye  can, 
I'll  no  gang  to  my  bed 

Till  I  gr-t  a  man . 
The  wean  &c. 

I  haf  as  gude  a  craft  rig 
As  made  o*  yird  and  stane; 

And  waly  fa  the  ley  -Crap  . 
For  I  maun  till'd  again. 
The  wean  &c. 


Hnrd  is  the   fate  of  him  who  loves. 


390>        Ward  is  the  fate  of  him  who  loves, ie*  dares  not   tell  his 


trembling  pain, But  to  the  sympa-thetic  groves,  But    to    the  lonely 


ist  _  ning  plain.    Oh,  when  she   bless _  es    next  your  shade,  Oh, 


when    her  foot  _  steps    next   are   seen,  In    flow'  ry  tracts 


long  the    mead,  In     fresh  _er    maz_es    o'er    the  green . 


V«  ^<ntk  spirits  of  the  vale, 
To  v%|jo.n  the  tears  of  love  are  dear, 
VYuni  l\  iiuf  lilies  waft  a  gale, 
Arid-wgh  mv  sorrows  in  her  ear. 
O,  tell  her  what  she  cannot  blame, 
'flirt-  feat  m\  tongue  must  ever  bind; 
'  )li,  tell  her,  Hut  wa  virtuous  flame 
Is  Aft  her  Mpfitli  »s  "o  il  r(  fin'd. 


Not  her  own  guardian  angel  eyes 
With  chaster  tenderness  his  care, 
Not  purer  her  own  wishes  rise, 
Not  holier  her  own  sighs  in  prayV 
Hut  if,  at  lirst,  her  virgin  fear 
Should  start  at  loveV  suspected  nams, 
Wi! Ji  that  of  friendship  soothe  her  ear, 
True  love  and;  friendship  art  the  Su-niftd 


Ye  Mn.ses  nine,  ()  lenel  your  aid. 


611 


See  P.  L?f  Vol  'st 


praises   of  my  High-land  King,     And    no/v    would  fain  st 


Jamie, the  pride  of  all  the  green. 
Is  just  my  age,  e'en  gay  fifteen: 
When  firft  f  saw  him,  twas  the  day  , 
That  ushers  in  the  sprightly  May; 
When  first  1  felt  love's  pow*rh,|  sting, 
And  srghcj  for  my  dear  Highland  King. 

with  him  for  beauty,  shape,and  air, 
Mother  shepherd  cap  compare; 
f2'»  d  natun,  honesty,  and  truth. 


Adorn  the  dear,  the  matchless  youth; 
And  graces, more  than  I  can  sing. 
Bedeck  my  charming  Highland  King. 

Would  once  the  dearest  boy  but  any, 
Tis  you  I  Jove;  come  come  away  , 
Unto  the  kirk,  my  lo\e,  lets  h>  , 
Oh  me  in  rapture,  I'd  comply! 
And  Ishenild  then  have  cau*<  fo  ^ing 
The  praises  of  my  Highland  King. 


392 Bright   the   moon  a ~ boon  yon  mountain,  Upwards  tow'ring 


<~     (bed   her  light  ,  Nothing  heard 

but  tal_ling  i 

waters, 

Thro'  the 

mmmm 


fi_knt   night.    Nel_.lv  on      her    couch  re^clin-ing 


fet  in    the     arms  of  fleep    whilft     in     dreams  ^ 


Loud  (he  hears  the  tempeft  howling, 
High  (he  fees  the  billows  roll, 
Lightnings  flafh  and  thunders  roaring, 
Spreading  terror  to  each  Pole. 
On  the  sea -beach  this  beholding. 
Tremblingdreads  her  William,  loft, 
Yes,fhe  cries*  he  .comes  I  fee  him, 
O  how  pale'/tis  William's  Ghoft. 

Sighs  and  tears,  and  wild  detraction, 
Kend  the  maidens  -tender  breaft, 
William!  why  my  William  fhun  me, 
O  my  heart  is  fore  oppreft. 
Oft  you  fwore  you  lovel  me  dearly. 
How  have  1  your  favour  loft 
VJear  me  to  him,  rolling  billows 
Let  me  ctafp  my  Williams  Ghoft. 


Nell}*  mind  thus  wildly  raving. 
Deeply  drown'3  in  fleep  the  while, 
William  in  the  harbour  landing, 
Went  to  meet  his  Nellys  fmile. 
At  her  window  gently  calling, 
Wake  my  love, 'tis  day  almoft, 
Yes,  (he  cryd  I'll  come  to  thee, 
Yes,  HI  follow  Williams  Ghoft. 

Clear  at  length  the  fun  was  (hining, 
Sleep  forfook  her  death-like  throne, 
Nelly  ftarted  from  her  flumbring. 
Glad  her  dream  and  night  was  gone. 
Fair  and  fpotlefs  as  the  lily* 
Laden  with  the  morning  dew, 
Nelly  ran  to  meet  her  William, 
With  a  heart  both  kind  and  true. 


O  that  T  hid   ne'er  been  Married 

Corrected  bv  R,  Burns. 


b!3 


they   cry   crow^die    ever    mair.    Ance    crow  „  die    twice  erowdj'e 


o_ny   mair    Ye'I!    crow -die    a*     my    •mc-al  a_ 


way 


\dded  by  BUKNS. 

Waefu'  Want  and  Hunger  flcy  me, 
Glpwrin  by  the  hallan  en; 

•Sair  I  fecht  them  at  the  door, 

Kut  hv  I  ni  eerie  they   come  beTi. 
Ance  crowd ie  tec. 


O  gin  my  love   were  yaw  red  rose. 


50 '4  a        ®  nn    love  were  yon  red  rose, That  grows  upon  the  castl< 


Slow,  with  much  expression. 


^     wal  And  I  nysell  a  drap  of  dew,  !n_to  her  bonnv  breast  fo  fa.  Oh! 


as 


there  beyond  ex_pression  blest  I'd  feast  on  beauty  a  the  night; St -al'd 


on  her  silk-saft  falds  to  rest, Till  flyed  a_wa  by  Phabus  light 


1 


Nae  luck  about  the  house  when  our  ^oodwife's  awa . 


m 


393"V  Bin&  °^  your  good -man  frae  hame^Kut  whiles  they  re 


EE 


t7-i-  1J~7 


Lively 


¥ 


best  ft  -  wa,        For   tho*  the  good -wife    stay     at     hame,  John 


mm 


does    not    toil    for    a*.  There  was  nae  luck  a -bout  tin;  house  An* 


3£ 


m 


>>  See  Vol.  I8.1  Page  44 


Continued 


r —     tiT  *        r  .     ,  ,1.  r 


little  for    my   wane,    There   was     nae      •  luck  .   a_  __bout 


my 


f  or  first  the  bairns  raise  frae  their  bed, 

And  for  a  piece  did  ca*, 
Then  how  could  T  attend  my  work, 

Who  had  to  answer  a* 
There  was  nae  Juck,tec. 

Their  hands  and  faces  was  to  wash, 

And  coaties  to  put  on, 
When  every  dud  lay  here  and  there, 

Which  vexed  honest  John. 
There  was  nae  luck, tec. 

He  made  the  pottage  wanting  salt. 

The  kail  smg'd  in  the  pot, 
The  cutties  lay  under  his  feet, 

And  cogs  they  scem'd  to  rot. 
There  was  nae  luck, tec. 

The  hen  and  birds  went  to  the  fields, 

The  glaid  she  whipt  up  twa, 
The  cow  wanting  her  chaff  and  stra, 

•Stood  routing  thro'  the  wa\ 
There  was  nae  luck,tec. 

'1  he  bairns  fought  upon  the  floor, 

And  on  the  fire  did  fa*; 
Which  vex'd  the  heart  o'  honest  John, 

When  Maggy  was  awa'. 
There  was  nae  luck, tec. 

With  bitten  fingers  and  cutted  thumbs, 
And  scriechs  which  piere'd  the  skies, 

Which  di  *ove  his  patience  to  an  end, 
Wish'd  death  to  close  their  eyes. 
There  was  nae  luckJfcc. 


I  hen  went  to  please  them  with  a  scon, 

And  so  he  burnt  it  black, 
Kan  to  the  well  with  twa  new  cans, 

But  none  of  them  came  back. 
I  here  was  nae  luck, tec. 


The  hens  went  to  the  neighbours  house, 

And  there  they  laid  their  eggs, 
When  simple  John  reprovd  them  fort. 
They  broke  poor  chuckles  legs. 
There  was  nae  luck,  tec. 

He  little  thought  of  Maggys  toil. 

As  she  was  by  the  fire, 
But  when  he  got  a  trial  o't, 
He  soon  began  to  tire. 
There  was  nae  luck, tec. 

First  when  he  got  the  tusk  in  hand, 

He  thought  all  would  go  right, 
But  O  he  little  wages  had, 
On  Saturday  at  night. 
There  was  nae  luck, tec. 

He  had  no  gain  from  <Vheel  or  reel, 

Nor  yarn  had  he  tostffJ," 
He  wishcl  for  Maggy  ha  me  again, 
Being  out  of  money  and  meal. 
There  was  nac  lurk, tec. 

The  de  i  I  gade  o'er  Jock  Wabster, 

His  loss  he  could  not  tell. 
But  when  he  wanted  Maggys  help, 
He  did  nae-  good  himsell. 
I  here  was  nae  luck,tex..  . 

Another  want  1  do  not  name, 

A  night  he  got  no  ease, 
But  tumbl'd  grumbfd  in  his  bed, 
A  fighting  wi*  the  flaes. 
There  was  nae  luck.&c. 


Wishing  for  Maggys  muckle  hi(>.s 
V\ hereon  the  flaes  might  foast. 

And  for  to  be  good  wife  again, 
He  swore  it  was  n?u  \v9\. 
There  was  nae  Juck,&c. 


Livd  a  nee  twa  lovers  in  von  dale 


616 


396^         Liv'd  ance  twa  lovers  in  yon  dale,  And  they  lov'd    o  ther 


Now,  Willie,  gif  you  luve  me  weel,       Was  never  man  in  a  lady's  bower 
As  Sac  it  seems  to  me,  When  she  was  travelling!* 

Gar  build,. gar  build  a  bonny  ship, 

Gar  build  it  speedilie.  He's  stepped  three  steps  down  the  stair, 

Upon  the  marble  stane: 
And  we  will  sail  the  sea  sae  green,       Sae  louds  he  heard  his  young  son s  greel 

Unto  some  far  countrie,  But  and  his  lady's  mane! 

Or  we'll  sail  to  some  bonie  isle 

Stands  tanely  midst  the  sea!*  "Now  come, now  come, Willie,  she  said. 

Talc  y  our  young  son  frae  me, 
But  lang  or  ere  the    ship  was  built.    And  hie  him  to  your  mothers  bower 


Or  deck'd,  or  rigged  out, 
Came  sick  a  pain  in  Annex's  back. 
That  down  she  cou'd  na  lout. 


With  speed  and  privacie 


He's  taen  his  young  son  in  his  arms, 

He's  kissd  himtcheek  and  chin, 
He's  hied  him  to  his  mother's  bower 
By  the  ae  light  of  the  moon. 


Now,  Wi Hie,  g if  y e  I u v e  m e  wee  1 , 
As  sae  it  seems  to  me, 
O  haste,  haste,  bring  me  to  my  bowV, 

And  my  bow'r  maidens  threeV  And  with  him  came  the  bold  Baron. 

And  he  spake  up  wi'  pride, 
He's  taen  her  in  his  arms  twa,  *'Gar  seek,  gar  seek  the  bower  maidens, 

And  kissd  her  cheek  and  chin;  Gar  busk, gar  busk  the  bride. 

He's  brocht  her  to  her  ain  sweet  bowV, 

But  nae  bow'r-maid  was  in.  My  maidens, easy  with  my  back 

And  easy  with  my  side. 
Now, -leave  my  bower, Willie^ she  said,  O  set- my  saddle  sift, Willie, 
Now  leave  me  to  my  lane;  I  am  a  tender  bride  . 


,597 


O  Mally's  meek,  Mallya  sweet. 

Chorus  Written  for  this  Work  by  Robert  Hums. 


617 


1/  -    w,       l         r       ,        I  .      r  y —  — ff 

O  Malf\-s  meek,  MalJys  sweet,  Mally's  modest  and  discreef 


A  littleXivelj 


Mally's    rare    Mai  _  ly's    fair,  Mal-lys   ev'_  ry    way  compleat.  As 


1 


I  was  walking  up   the  street,  A   barefit  maid  I  chanc'd  tf»  meet>  But 


ill    i  u  i    i  i 


O  the  road  was   ve_ry  hard,  For  that  fair  maidens  tender  feet. 


Chorus,  Mally's  meek  &c. 
It  were  mair  meet,  that  those  fine  feet 
Were  weel  lac'd  up  in  silken  shoon. 
And  twere  more  fit  that  she  should  sit, 
Within  yon  chariot  gilt  aboon. 


Chorus,  Mally's  meek  &c  . 
Her  yellow  hair,  beyond  compare. 
Comes  trinklin'^  down  her  swan  white  neck, 
And  her  two  eyes  like  stars  in  skies. 
Would  keep  a  sinking  ship  frae  wreck. 


618 


Tell  me  Jessy  tell  me  why 


r$hrr\  Hi 

^-  !1i  r 

-Mt  Tell 

me 

JtSSV 

felt 

r 

ne    why  My 

fond    suit  joy 

-Q  1  

I        r  l 

Slow 


rj**i  n " 
lJj!  JJ 


stilt  d  e  _  ny  Is  your  bo^som    cold    as     snow     did  you 


5 


j  J3  j  y  J  g  f ,  J  i  J  [j  1 

fee K  for    woe.    Can   you    hear     with   .out     a  sigh 

m  t  cj  i-hO  1 


Pi 


Him  com  -  plain  who  for    vou   could    die,  If    you     e  -  ver 

i 


shed    a     tear        Hear  me    Jes  _  sy  *  hear  O  hear 

^    ITT1  ■' 


Life  to  me  is  not  more  dear, 
Than  the  hour  brings  Jessy  here 
Death  so  much  I  do  not  fear 
As  the  parting  moment  near. 
Summer  smiles  is  not  so  sweet. 
As  the  bloom  upOn  your  cheek. 
Nor  the  chrystal  dew  so  clear, 
Ah  your  ere*'  to  m<  appear. 


These  are  part  of  Jessys  charms 
Which  the  bosom  ever  warms 
But  the  charms  by  which  I'm  stun}*, 
Comes, O  Jess},  from  thy  tongue. 
Jessy  cfe'  tVo  longer  coy, 
Let  me  taste  a  lovers  joy. 
With  your  hand  remove  the  dart 
\pd>heat  the  wound  that's  in  mv  heart. 


1  care  na  for  your  een  sae  blue 


619 


1  care  na  for  your  witching  tongue, 
Which  pleases  a  an  pierces  some, 
fntil    I  hear  that  tongue  declare 
Nane  but  mysel  your  heart  shall  share 
An  gin  that  saft  an  melting  ©«, 
Doth  beam  on  me  an  only  me 
My  fate  is  seal'd,  then  1  am  thine 
An  let  me  die  when  1  repine 


6XO 


Good  ni^ht  and  joy  be  wi*  you  a* 


600 


J  l  j.J'ijj  p;ij,rju'[iiM 

The  night  is  my-  departing  nitfht,The  morns  the  day  I  maun  a 


A  little  lively 


-wa,Theres  no  a  friend  or  fae  o.  mine,  But  wishes  that  T    were  awa.  What 


hae  done  for  lack  o'  wit  I   never  never   can  re_ca*    I    trust  ye' re 


i 


P 


trc/f  trier 


my  friends  ax  yet.Gude  night  and  jo^'  be    wi'  you 


♦ 

a. 


f'l  i» 


Bv  Burns. 


^DIKUl  a  hearts  'warm,  fond  adieul    May  freedom,  Harmony,  and  Love. 


Dear  brothers. of  the  mystic  tyel 
Ye  favoured,  ye  enlighten'd  Few, 

Companions  of  my  social  joy! 
Tho*  I  to  foreign  lands  must  hie, 
Pursuing  fortunes  sHdd'ry  ba, 
With  Hu  tting  heart,  and  brimful  eye* 
V\i  mand  you  still,  tho*  far  awa, 

Oft  have.  I  met  your  social  Band, 

And  spent  the  chearful, festive  ni^lit; 
Oft,  honour'!  with  supreme  command,  ' 

Presided  o'er  the  Sons  of  li#ht: 
And  bv  that  Hieroglyphic  bright, 

Which  none  but  Craftsmen  ever  saw! 
Strong  Mem'rv  On  n\y  heart  shall  write 

Those  happy  scenes  when  for  awa"! 


Unite  you  in  the  grand  Design, 
Beneath  th*  Omniscient  Eye  above, 
The  glorious  Architect  Divine. 
That  you  may  keep  trT  unerring  line, 
Still  rising  by  the  plummets  law. 
Till  Order  bright  completely  shine, 
Shall  be  my  pray  r  when  far  awa*. 

And  You,farewelll  whose  merits  claim. 

Justly  that  highest  badge  to  wear! 
Heav'n  bless  your  honourVi,  noble  Nam 

To  Masonry  and  Scotia  dear! 
A  last  request  permit  me.  here, 

When  v -earls   \  f  assemble  V, 
One  round,  I  ask  it  with  a  tear; 

To  him,  the  Bard  that's  far  awa. 


F  f    N  I  s. 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


OF  THE 


LYRIC  POETRY  AND  MUSIC 


OF 


SCOTLAND. 


PART  VI. 


BI. 

MY  PEGGY'S  FACE. 

This  song  was  written  by  Burns  in  1787,  for  the  second  vo- 
lume of  the  Museum,  but  having  been  mislaid,  it  did  not  make 
its  appearance  till  the  publication  of  the  last  volume  of  that 
work.  In  a  letter,  inclosing  the  song  and  the  fine  air  to  which  it 
is  adapted,  the  bard  thus  addresses  Mr  Johnson :  "  Dear  Mr 
Publisher,  I  hope,  against  my  return,  you  will  be  able  to  tell 
me  from  Mr  Clarke  if  these  words  will  suit  the  tune.  If  they 
don't  suit,  I  must  think  on  some  other  air,  as  I  have  a  very 
strong  private  reason  for  wishing  them  in  the  second  volume. 
Don't  forget  to  transcribe  me  the  list  of  the  Antiquarian  mu- 
sic Farewell.  R.  Burns."  Burns  alludes  to  the  manu- 
script music  in  the  library  of  the  Antiquarian  Society,  Edin- 
burgh. 

Mr  George  Thomson  has  inserted  this  song  in  the  third 
volume  of  his  Collection;  but  the  name  of  the  heroine,  in 
place  of  «  Peggy,"  is  changed  for  that  of  «  Mary,"  and  the 
words  are  directed  to  be  sung  to  the  tune  called  "  The 
Ewie  wi'  the  Crooked  Horn."  These  alterations,  however,  do 
not  appear  to  be  for  the  better.  It  will  generally  be  found, 
that  the  tune  which  the  poet  himself  HaWut  view  when  com- 
posing  a  song,  if  not  superior,  is,  at  least,  more  in  unison 

(2  i 


440 


DI. —  MY  PEGGY'S  FACE. 


with  the  sentiments  expressed,  than  any  other  that  can  be  se- 
lected. 

DII. 

MY  BOY  TAMMY. 

This  fine  ballad,  beginning  "  Whar  hae  ye  been  a'  day, 
my  boy,  Tammy  ?"  was  written  by  Hector  Macneill,  Esq. 
It  first  appeared  in  a  magazine,  printed  at  Edinburgh  in 
1791,  entitled  "  The  Bee,"  which  was  conducted  by  his 
friend  Dr  James  Anderson.  It  has  since  been  printed  in  the 
author's  poetical  works,  and  has  deservedly  become  a  favour- 
ite with  the  public.  Miss  Duncan  (afterwards  Mrs  David- 
son) the  celebrated  actress,  used  frequently  to  sing  this  bal- 
lad on  the  stage  with  great  applause. 

The  melody,  to  which  the  words  are  adapted,  is  very  an- 
cient and  uncommonly  pretty.  The  old  song,  however,  was 
quite  puerile ;  the  Editor  has  often  heard  it  sung  by  old 
people,  when  he  was  a  boy,  and  he  still  remembers  some  of 
the  verses.    One  of  them  ran  thus  : 

Ib  she  fit  to  soop  the  house, 

My  boy,  Tammy  ? 
Is  she  fit  to  soop  the  house, 

My  boy,  Tammy  ? 
She's  just  as  fit  to  soop  the  house 
As  the  cat  to  tak'  a  mouse  ; 
And  yet  she's  but  a  young  thing 

New  come  frae  her  mammy. 

Another  verse  contained  a  very  singular  sort  of  puzzle  : 

How  auld's  the  bonnie  young  thing, 

My  boy,  Tammy  ? 
How  auld's  the  bonnie  young  thing, 

My  boy,  Tammy  ? 
She's  twice  six  and  twice  seven, 
Twice  twenty  and  eleven  ; 
And  yet  she's  but  a  young  thing 

Just  come  frae  her  mammy. 

DIH. 

RED  GLEAMS  THE  SUN. 

This  song  was  written  by  Robert  Couper,  Esq.  M.  D. 
author  of  two  volumes  of  poetry,  chiefly  in  the  Scottish  lan- 


Dili.— RED  GLEAMS  THE  SUN. 


441 


guage,  printed  at  Inverness  in  1804,  and  dedicated  to  the 
late  Jane,  Duchess  of  Gordon.  The  title  of  the  song,  in  the 
Doctor's  works,  is  "  Kinrara,  — tune,  "  Niel  Gow." 

In  the  Museum,  the  song  has  accordingly  been  set  to  the 
beautiful  strathspey,  called  "  Niel  Gow,"  which  was  composed 
by  Mr  Macintyre,  the  musician,  in  honour  of  the  late  father 
of  Scottish  ball  music,  Niel  Gow  of  Dunkeld.  Kinrara 
Lodge  was  the  summer  residence  of  the  late  Duchess  of 
Gordon. 

DIV. 

O,  STEER  HER  UP,  AND  HAUD  HER  GAUN. 

Ramsay  wrote  a  bacchanalian  song  to  this  ancient  tune, 
and  printed  it  in  his  Tea-Table  Miscellany,  1724.  He  very 
properly  suppressed  the  old  song,  enough  of  which  is  still  but 
too  well  known.  The  first  four  lines  of  the  song  in  the  Mu- 
seum were  taken  from  Ramsay's,  and  the  rest  of  it  was  writ- 
ten by  Burns  for  that  work.  Johnson  has  made  a  mistake 
in  copying  the  fifth  line  of  the  second  stanza.  It  should  be 
i 6  Ne'er  break  your  heart  for  ae  rebute,"  as  in  the  manu- 
script. 

DV. 

WHEN  I  GAE'D  TO  THE  MILL. 
This  song  was  copied  from  Herd's  Ancient  and  Modern 
Songs,  printed  in  1 776.  It  is  adapted  to  a  tune,  which  Os- 
wald, in  his  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  book  ix.  calls 
<c  The  Birth  of  Kisses,"  which  was  probably  the  original 
title  of  the  song.  The  author's  name  has  not  yet  been  dis- 
covered. 

DVI. 

WHAR  ESK  ITS  SILVER  CURRENT  LEADS. 
This  beautiful  song,  according  to  the  information  of  the 
publisher  of  the  Museum,  was  written  by  Mr  Carey.  It  is 
adapted  to  a  very  beautiful  and  plaintive  old  air,  called  "  Y\\ 
never  see  him  more,"  printed  in  the  sixth  book  of  Oswald's 
Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  p.  16.  This  tune  is  omitted 
in  the  Index  of  Oswald's  work. 


44£     DVI. — WHAR  ESK  ITS  SILVER  CURRENT  LEADS. 

Mr  Carey's  song,  five  years  after  its  appearance  in  the 
sixth  volume  of  the  Museum,  which  was  published  on  the 
4th  of  June  1803,  appeared,  for  a  second  time,  in  the  fourth 
number  of  Mr  George  Thomson's  Collection,  printed  in 
1808,  with  the  following  alterations,  which  are  evident  im- 
provements. In  place  of  the  8th,  10th,  and  12th  lines  in 
the  Museum,  read,  as  in  Mr  Thomson's  edition, 

I  deck'd  my  pleasing  peaceful  bower — line  8th. 
A  modest  sweet  and  lovely  flower — line  10th. 
To  grace  and  chear  my  bonnie  bower — line  12th. 

Mr  Thomson  says  the  author  is  unknown,  and  that 
"  The  Esk  here  alluded  to,  after  passing  the  romantic  banks 
of  Roslin,  winds  for  several  miles  through  a  variety  of  scene- 
ry singularly  beautiful."  There  are,  at  least,  six  rivers  of 
that  name  in  Scotland,  whose  banks  are  all  particularly  ro- 
mantic, and  there  is  not  one  line  in  the  song  that  fixes  the  lo- 
cality to  the  Esk  which  washes  the  ruins  of  Roslin  Castle. 
Mr  Thomson  directs  the  words  of  Carey's  song  to  be  sung 
to  the  "  Braes  of  Ballochmyle,"  a  song  written  by  Burns, 
set  to  music  by  A.  Masterton,  and  published  in  the  second 
volume  of  the  Museum,  page  285,  in  the  year  1790. 

dvii. 

THO>  FOR  SEVEN  YEARS  AND  MAIR. 

This  poetical  dialogue  between  two  rustic  lovers,  was 
written  by  Ramsay  to  the  tune  of  "  I'll  never  leave  thee," 
and  printed  in  his  Tea-Table  Miscellany  in  1724.  Some 
lines  of  the  ancient  song  of  "  I'll  never  leave  thee,"  however, 
are  interspersed  here  and  there  in  Ramsay's  production. 
The  editor  of  the  Orpheus  Caledonius,  having  preferred 
Crawford's  song,  beginning  "  One  day  I  heard  Mary  say," 
to  the  same  air,  published  it  in  that  work  in  1725. 

Mr  John  Watt,  in  the  fourth  volume  of  his  "  Musical 
Miscellany,"  printed  at  London  in  1730,  published  Ram- 
say's song,  adapted  to  the  tunc  of  "  A  Lad  and  a  Lassie  lay 
in  a  Killogie,"  which  was  afterwards  called  "  Bannocks  o* 
Bear  Meal,  and  Bannocks  o'  Barley,"  under  the  following 

1 


DVII.— — TH0'  FOR  SEVEN  YEARS  AND  MA1R. 


443 


title,  "  A  dialogue  between  Jenny  and  Nelly,  to  the  tune  of 
I'll  never  leave  thee."  As  Crawfurd's  song  to  the  genuine 
air,  was  published  in  the  first  volume  of  the  Museum,  page 
92,  Johnson  adapted  the  same  tune  that  Watt  had  selected 
for  Ramsay's  dialogue,  which  suits  the  words  nearly  as  well 
as  the  proper  tune  of  "  111  never  leave  thee"  would  have 
done. 

DVIII. 

ROW  SAFTLY,  THOU  STREAM. 

This  beautiful  song,  entitled  "  Captain  O'Kaine,"  was 
written  by  the  late  Mr  Richard  Gall,  a  young  man  of  the 
most  promising  poetical  talents,  and  author  of  several  songs 
in  the  sixth  volume  of  the  Museum.  The  tune  is  certainly 
Irish. 

Richard  Gall  was  born  at  Linkhouse,  near  Dunbar,  in  the 
month  of  December  1776-  At  an  early  period  he  was  sent 
to  the  school  at  Haddington,  where  he  soon  acquired  a  pro- 
ficiency in  reading,  writing,  and  arithmetic.  On  leaving 
school,  his  parents  placed  him  under  the  charge  of  a  relation, 
to  learn  the  trade  of  a  house-carpenter ;  but,  ere  long,  he 
felt  such  antipathy  to  the  occupation  that  he  left  it.  He 
was  next  placed  with  a  respectable  builder  and  architect,  to 
acquire  a  knowledge  of  his  profession.  After  a  trial  of  this 
new  line  of  business  however  he  found  it  nearly  as  disagree- 
able to  him  as  the  other  ;  he  therefore  gave  it  up  also,  and 
went  to  Edinburgh,  to  which  city  his  father  and  mother  had 
recently  removed. 

Soon  after  his  arrival  in  the  Scottish  metropolis,  he  was 
bound  apprentice  to  Mr  David  Ramsay,  a  respectable  printer, 
and  publisher  of  the  Edinburgh  Courant.  This  mode  of  life 
proved  quite  congenial  to  the  feelings  of  young  Gall.  In- 
deed, the  attention  and  friendship  which  his  worthy  master 
showed  him  on  every  occasion,  attached  him  so  strongly  to 
his  employer,  that  after  the  expiration  of  his  indenture,  he 
continued  in  the  service  of  that  gentleman  during  the  rest  of 
his  life. 


444  DVIII.—EOW  SAFTLYj  THOU  ST11EAM. 

Whilst  in  this  situation  Gall  employed  his  spare  hours  in 
acquiring  various  branches  of  education,  and  in  wooing  Sco- 
tia's muse.  His  poetical  efforts  soon  began  to  attract  consi- 
derable attention,  and  procured  him  the  friendship  and  cor- 
respondence of  several  literary  characters,  amongst  whom 
were  Burns  and  Macneill.  About  the  beginning  of  1801,  an 
abscess  broke  out  in  his  breast,  which,  notwithstanding  every 
possible  care  and  the  best  medical  assistance,  put  a  period  to 
his  existence  on  the  10th  of  May  1801,  in  the  25th  year  of 
his  age. 

During  his  last  illness,  although  unable  from  weakness  to 
hold  a  pen,  he  committed  several  of  his  poems  to  paper,  writ- 
ten with  a  black  lead  pencil.  Mr  Stark,  in  his  Biographica 
Scotica,  justly  observes,  that  "  Of  all  the  writings  of  Mr 
Gall,  the  tendency  is  uniformly  virtuous.  But  this  is  not 
their  only  merit.  A  rich  vein  of  poetry  pervades  them  ; 
the  sentiments  are  striking ;  the  language  simple  and  unaf- 
fected." 

Mr  Gall's  Poetical  Works  were  lately  published  in  a  neat 
volume  12mo,  by  Messrs  Oliver  &  Boyd,  with  a  Life  of  the 
Author,  elegantly  written,  by  the  Rev.  Alexander  Stewart. 

DIX. 

AS  I  WENT  O'ER  THE  HIGHLAND  HILLS. 

This  is  the  well-known  ballad  of  "  Peggy  Bawn,"  which 
has  long  been  a  favourite  at  the  firesides  of  the  peasantry  of 
Scotland,  although  it  does  not  appear  to  have  been  honoured 
with  a  place  in  any  regular  collection  until  the  publication  of 
the  Museum.  The  air  is  said  to  be  Irish,  but  the  ballad  it- 
self is  unquestionably  of  Scottish  origin.  The  tune,  how- 
ever, is  very  pretty.  It  was  made  into  an  excellent  rondo, 
with  variations  for  the  piano-forte  or  harpsichord,  by  Butler 
the  organist,  which  has  had  a  considerable  run.  The  author 
of  the  words  and  music  has  not  yet  been  discovered. 


445 


DX. 

O,  CHERUB  CONTENT. 
This  beautiful  song  was  written  by  Thomas  Campbell, 
Esq.  author  of  the  Pleasures  of  Hope,  Gertrude  of  Wyo- 
ming, and  many  other  excellent  poems.  The  words  are 
adapted  to  the  favourite  Irish  air,  called  Coolun.  Mr  Camp- 
bell evinced  considerable  abilities,  both  as  a  poet  and  a  scho- 
lar, at  a  very  early  period  of  life.  The  present  Editor  recol- 
lects of  having  read  a  poem,  called  "  The  Choice  of  Paris," 
written  by  Mr  Campbell,  when  he  was  a  boy  at  the  high- 
school  of  Glasgow.  Mr  Campbell  entered  that  seminary  on 
10th  October  1785. 

DXI. 

AS  WALKING  FORTH  TO  VIEW. 

This  ballad  was  printed  in  Ramsay's  Tea-Table  Miscel- 
lany in  1724,  with  the  letter  Q  annexed,  to  denote  that  it  was 
an  old  song  with  alterations.  It  is  entitled  66  Omnia  vincit 
amor,"  i.  e.  "  Love  conquers  all." 

In  Skene's  music  manuscripts,  written  in  the  reign  of 
James  YI,  of  Scotland,  there  is  an  air  with  the  same  Latin 
title  inserted  in  book  sixth,  after  "  Lady  Rothemayes  Lilt." 
The  original  ballad  must  therefore  have  been  a  favourite 
long  before  the  year  1600.  It  seems  to  have  been  set  to 
various  tunes,  for  in  Oswald's  Caledonian  Pocket  Compa- 
nion, book  viii.  there  is  a  slow  air,  in  common  time,  entitled 
"  Omnia  vincit  amor,"  which  is  quite  different  from  the  air 
in  Skene's  MSS.  as  well  as  that  in  the  Museum.  But  the 
Editor  is  of  opinion,  that  neither  the  airs  published  by  Os- 
wald nor  Johnson  are  so  old  as  the  words. 

DXII. 

THE  BATTLE  OF  HARLAW. 

This  old  ballad,  beginning  "  Frae  Dunicleir,  as  I  cam 
throuch,"  gives  a  very  minute  and  faithful  account  of  the 
cause  and  issue  of  the  battle  of  Harlaw,  fought  on  the  24th 
day  of  July  1411,  between  Donald,  Lord  of  the  Isles,  and 
the  Earl  of  Mar,  son  of  Robert,  Duke  of  Albany,  Regent 


446 


DXII. — THE  BATTLE  OF  HARLAW. 


of  Scotland,  during  the  captivity  of  his  nephew,  James  I. 
King  of  Scots-  Harlaw,  where  the  battle  took  place,  is  situ- 
ated in  Garioch,  a  district  in  Aberdeenshire.  The  royal 
army  on  this  occasion  were  completely  victorious ;  Donald's 
forces  being  defeated  with  great  slaughter. 

"  The  Battel  of  Hayrlaw"  is  quoted  as  one  of  the  "  sweet 
sangis,"  in  Wedderburn's  "  Complain te  of  Scotlande,"  printed 
in  1549 ;  but,  so  far  as  we  know,  no  printed  edition  of  this 
celebrated  ballad  has  yet  been  discovered,  prior  to  that  in 
Ramsay's  Evergreen,  published  at  Edinburgh  in  1724,  from 
an  ancient  manuscript  copy.  The  late  Lord  Hailes  seemed  to 
have  entertained  some  doubts  of  its  being  a  genuine  produc- 
tion of  the  15th  century;  because  Ramsay  did  not  scruple 
on  some  occasions  to  retrench,  or  substitute  verses  of  his  own 
for  originals  of  the  ancient  poetry  which  he  collected.  The 
present  ballad,  however,  is  so  very  different  from  the  style 
and  structure  of  every  production  of  Ramsay,  and  bears 
such  evident  and  strong  marks  of  antiquity,  that,  making  al- 
lowance for  some  verbal  alterations  which  may,  perhaps, 
have  been  substituted  for  a  few  of  the  more  ancient  and  ob- 
solete words,  there  can  scarcely  remain  a  doubt  of  its  ge- 
nuine authenticity.  Indeed,  Ritson,  who  in  general  had 
little  or  no  faith  in  any  of  the  Scottish  traditions,  thus  ex- 
presses himself  with  regard  to  this  ballad.  "  The  Battel  of 
Hayrlaw,"  (mentioned  by  Wedderburne)  is  presumed  to  be 
the  fine  poem  printed  in  the  "  Evergreen,"  which,  with  sub- 
mission to  the  opinion  of  the  late  Lord  Hailes,  may,  for  any 
thing  that  appears  either  in  or  out  of  it  to  the  contrary,  be  as 
old  as  the  15th  century." 

In  Drummond  of  Hawthornden's  mock-heroic  poem,  which 
was  edited,  with  notes  and  illustrations,  by  Bishop  Gibson 
in  1691,  mention  is  made  of  a  bagpipe  tune,  called  the  Battle 
of  Harlaw — 

"  Inter 'ca  ante  alios  dux  Piper  Laius  heros, 
Precedent,  magnamque  gC7'cns  cum  burdine  pypam, 
Incipit  IIaiilaii  cunctis  sonare  Battellum." 


DXII.— THE  BATTLE  OF  HARLAW. 


447 


The  present  Editor  is  in  possession  of  a  folio  manuscript  of 
Scots  tunes  of  considerable  antiquity,  wherein  this  pibroch  is 
inserted  under  the  title  of  the  "  Battle  of  Hardlaw."  It  is 
nere  annexed : 

BATTLE  OF  HARDLAW.   A  Pibroch. 


Mr  Ritson  conjectures,  that  this  ballad  must  have  been 
sung  to  a  very  slow  air ;  but  none  of  these  long  ballads  were 
sung  in  adagio  time.  It  seems  highly  probable,  that  this 
ballad  was  chanted  to  the  first  strain  of  the  old  pibroch, 
which  contains  the  whole  air,  and  suits  the  measure  of  the 
stanza.  The  other  strains  of  this  wild  pibroch  are  evidently 
mere  variations  of  the  theme  or  first  strain. 

As  Johnson  was  under  the  necessity  of  curtailing  this  fine 
old  historical  ballad,  on  account  of  the  limited  size  of  his 
sixth  volume,  it  is  here  reprinted  from  Ramsay's  Evergreen, 
1724. 

THE  BATTLE  OF  HARLAW. 
Frae  Dunideir  as  I  cam  throuch, 
Doun  by  the  hill  of  Banochie, 
Allangst  the  lands  of  Garioch, 
Grit  pitie  was  to  heir  and  se, 
The  noys  and  dulesum  hermonie, 
That  evir  that  driery  day  did  daw. 


448 


DXII.-— THE   BATTLE  OF  HARLAW. 


Cry  and  the  corynoch*  on  hie, 
(t  Alas,  Alas  !  for  the  Harlaw  \" 
ii. 

I  marvlit  what  the  matter  meint, 
All  folks  were  in  a  fiery  fairy,t 
I  wist  not  quha  was  fae  or  friend, 
Zit  quietly  I  did  me  carrie : 
But  sen  the  days  of  auld  King  Harrie,}: 
Sic  slauchter  was  not  hard  or  sene ; 
And  thair  I  had  nae  tyme  to  tairy, 
For  bissiness  in  Aberdene. 

in. 

Thus  as  I  walkit  on  the  way, 

To  Inverury  as  I  went, 

I  met  a  man,  and  bad  him  stay, 

Requesting  him  to  mak  me  'quaint 

Of  the  beginning  and  the  event 

That  happenit  thare  at  the  Harlaw  ; 

Then  he  entreated  me  tak  tent, 

And  he  the  truth  sould  to  me  schaw.  

IV. 

Grit  Donald  of  the  Yles  did  claim 
Unto  the  lands  of  Ross  sum  richt, 
And  to  the  Governour  he  came, 
Them  for  to  haif  gif  that  he  micht ; 
Quha  saw  his  interest  was  but  slicht, 
And  thairfore  answerit  with  disdain  ; 
He  hastit  hame  baith  day  and  nicht, 
And  sent  nae  bod  word  §  back  again. 

v. 

But  Donald  richt  impatient 

Of  that  answer  Duke  Robert  gaif, 

He  vow'd  to  God  Omnipotent 

All  the  hale  lands  of  Ross  to  haif, 

Or  ells  be  graithed  in  his  graif : 

He  wald  not  quat  his  richt  for  nocht, 

Nor  be  abusit  lyk  a  slaif, 

That  bargane  sould  be  deirly  bocht. 


•  Corynoch,  i.  e.  a  funeral  dirge,  or  lament  for  the  dead, 
f  Bustle  and  confusion. 

$  Whilst  our  Malcolm  IV.  was  on  the  Continent  with  Henry  II.  of  England, 
Somerled,  Thane  of  Argyle,  who  aspired  to  the  throne  of  Scodand,  raised  a  for- 
midable rebellion  in  the  north,  which  was  fortunately  quelled  by  the  Earl  of 
Angus,  commander  of  the  royal  army,  who  defeated  Somerled's  forces  with  im- 
mense slaughter.  It  is  a  singular  coincidence,  that  Donald,  Lord  of  the  Isles,  like- 
wise took  the  opportunity  of  urging  his  claim  to  the  lands  of  Boss,  during  the  ab- 
sence of  his  Sovereign  ;  James  I.  being,  at  this  period,  a  captive  in  England. 

§  Reply,  or  message. 


JDXI1.  THE   BATTLE  OF  HAUL  AW. 


449 


VI. 

Then  haistylie  he  did  command 
That  all  his  weir-men  should  convene, 
Ilk  ane  well  harnisit  frae  hand 
To  meit  and  heir  quhat  he  did  mein  ; 
He  waxit  wraith  and  vowit  tein, 
Sweirand  he  wald  surpryse  the  north, 
Subdew  the  brugh  of  Aberdene, 
Merns,  Angus,  and  all  Fyfe  to  Forth, 

VII. 

Thus  with  the  weir-men  of  the  Yles, 
Quha  war  ay  at  his  bidding  bown, 
With  money  made,  with  forss  and  wyles, 
Right  far  and  neir,  baith  up  and  down, 
Throw  mount  and  muir,  frae  town  to  town, 
Alangst  the  land  of  Ross  he  roars, 
And  all  obey  it  at  his  bandown, 
Evin  frae  the  north  to  suthren  shoars. 

VIII. 

Then  all  the  countrie  men  did  yeild, 
For  nae  resistans  durst  they  mak, 
Nor  offer  battil  in  the  field, 
Be  forss  of  arms  to  beir  him  bak ; 
Syne  thay  resolvit  all,  and  spak 
The  best  it  was  for  their  behufe, 
They  sould  him  for  thair  chiftain  tak, 
Believing  weil  he  did  them  lufe. 

IX. 

Then  he  a  proclamation  maid, 
All  men  to  meet  at  Inverness, 
Throw  Murray-Land  to  mak  a  raid 
Frae  Arthursyre  unto  Spey-ness ; 
And,  furthermair,  he  sent  express, 
To  schaw  his  collours  and  ensenyie 
To  all  and  sindry,  mair  and  less, 
Throuchout  the  boundis  of  Boyn  and  Enyie. 

x. 

And  then  throw  fair  Strathbogie  land, 
His  purpose  was  for  to  pursew, 
And  quhasoever  durst  gainstand, 
That  race  they  should  full  sairly  rew. 
Then  he  bad  all  his  men  be  trew, 
And  him  defend  by  forss  and  slicht, 
And  promist  them  rewairds  anew, 
And  mak  them  men  of  mekle  m'tcht. 


6 


450 


DXII.— THE  BATTLE  OF  HARLAW. 


XI. 

Without  resistans,  as  he  said, 
Throw  all  these  parts  he  stoutly  past, 
Quhair  sum  war  wae,  and  sum  war  glaid, 
But  Garioch  was  all  agast ; 
Throw  all  these  fields  he  sped  him  fast, 
For  sic  a  sicht  was  nevir  sene, 
And  then  forsuith,  he  langd  at  last 
To  see  the  bruch  of  Aberdene. 

XII. 

To  hinder  this  prowd  enterprise, 
The  stout  and  michty  Erie  of  Mar, 
With  ail  his  men  in  arms  did  ryse, 
Even  frae  Curgarf  to  Craigyvar, 
And  down  the  syde  of  Don  richt  far, 
Angus  and  Mearns  did  all  convene, 
To  fecht,  or  Donald  cam  sae  nar, 
The  ryall  bruch  of  Aberdene. 

XIII. 

And  thus  the  martial  Erie  of  Mar, 
Marcht  with  his  men  in  richt  array, 
Before  the  enemie  was  aware, 
His  banner  bauldly  did  display  ; 
For  weil  eneuch  they  kend  the  way, 
And  all  their  semblance  weil  they  saw, 
Withoutin  dangir  or  delay, 
Came  haistily  to  the  Harlaw. 

XIV. 

With  him  the  braif  Lord  Ogilvy, 
Of  Angus  Sheriff  principal ; 
The  Constabill  of  gude  Dunde, 
The  vanguard  led  before  them  all ; 
Suppose  in  number  they  were  small, 
They  first  richt  bauldlie  did  pursew, 
And  maid  their  faes  befor  them  fall, 
Quha  then  that  race  did  sairly  rew. 

XV. 

And  then  the  worthy  Lord  Saltoun, 
The  strong  undoubted  laird  of  Drum, 
The  Stalwart  laird  of  Lawriestoune, 
With  ilk  thair  forces  all  and  sum ; 
Panmuir  with  all  his  men  did  cum ; 
The  Provost  of  brave  Aberdene, 
With  trumpets  and  with  tuick  of  drum, 
Came  shortly  in  their  armour  schenc. 


DXIII.— THE  BATTLE  OF  HARLAW. 


XVI. 

These,  with  the  Erie  of  Mar,  came  on 
In  the  reir-ward  richt  orderlie, 
Their  enemies  to  set  upon, 
In  awful  manner  hardily ; 
Togither  vowit  to  live  or  die, 
Since  they  had  marchit  mony  miles, 
For  to  suppress  the  tyrannie 
Of  doubted  Donald  of  the  Yles. 

XVII. 

But  he  in  number  ten  to  ane, 

Richt  subtilie  alang  did  ride, 

With  Malcolmtosh  and  fell  Maclean, 

With  all  their  power  at  their  syde ; 

Presumeand  on  their  strength  and  pryde, 

Without  all  feir  of  ony  aw, 

Richt  bauldlie  battill  till  abyde 

Hard  by  the  town  of  fair  Harlaw. 

XVIII. 

The  armies  met,  the  trumpet  sounds, 
The  dandling  drums  alloud  did  tuik, 
Baith  armies  byding  on  the  bounds, 
Till  ane  of  them  the  field  sould  bruik ; 
Nae  help  was  thairfor,  nane  wad  jouk, 
Ferss  was  the  fecht  on  ilka  syde, 
And  on  the  ground  lay  mony  a  bouk 
Of  them  that  there  did  battill  byd. 

XIX. 

With  doutsum  victorie  they  dealt, 
The  bludy  battill  lastit  lang  ; 
Each  man  his  nibour's  forss  there  felt, 
The  weakest  aft-times  gat  the  wrang  ; 
There  was  nae  mowis  there  them  amang, 
Naething  was  hard  but  heavy  knocks. 
That  echo  maid  a  dulefull  sang, 
Thairto  resounding  frae  the  rocks. 

xx. 

But  Donald's  men  at  last  gaif  back, 

For  they  war  all  out  of  array, 

The  Erl  of  Mar's  men  throw  them  brak, 

Pursewing  shairply  in  thair  way, 

Thair  enemys  to  tak  or  slay, 

Be  dint  of  forss  to  gar  them  yield  ; 

Quha  war  richt  blyth  to  win  away, 

And  *ae  for  feirdness  tint  the  fray. 


DXII. — THE  BATTLE  OF  HARLAW. 


XXI. 

Then  Donald  fled,  and  that  full  fast, 
To  mountains  hich  for  all  his  micht, 
For  he  and  his  war  all  agast, 
And  ran  till  they  war  out  of  sicht  ; 
And  sae  of  Ross  he  lost  his  richt, 
Thoch  mony  men  with  him  he  brocht, 
Towards  the  Yles  fled  day  and  nicht, 
And  all  he  wan  was  deirlie  bocht. 

XXII. 

This  is  (quod  he)  the  richt  report 
Of  all  that  I  did  heir  and  knaw, 
Thoch  my  discourse  be  sumthing  short 
Tak  this  to  be  a  richt  suthe  saw. 
Contrair  God  and  the  King's  law, 
Thair  was  spilt  mekle  Christian  blude, 
Into  the  battil  of  Harlaw  : 
This  is  sum,  sae  I  conclude. 

XXIII. 

But  zit  a  bonny  whyle  abide, 
An  I  sail  mak  thee  clearly  ken, 
Quhat  slauchter  was  on  ilka  syde, 
Of  Lowland  and  of  Highland  men  ; 
Quha  for  thair  awin  haif  ever  bene, 
These lazie  lowns  micht  weilbe  spaird, 
Chessit  lyke  deirs  into  thair  den, 
And  gat  thair  wages  for  rewaird. 

XXIV. 

Malcolmtosh  of  the  clan  heid  chief, 
Maclean  with  his  grit  hauchty  heid, 
With  all  thair  succour  and  relief 
War  dulefully  dung  to  the  deid ; 
And  now  we  are  freid  of  thair  feid 
And  will  not  lang  to  come  again 
Thousands  with  them  without  remeid 
On  Donald  syd,  that  day  war  slain. 

xxv. 

And  on  the  uther  syd  war  lost, 
Into  the  field  that  dismal  day, 
Chief  men  of  worth  (of  mekle  cost), 
To  be  lamentit  sair  for  ay  j 
The  Lord  Saltoun  of  Rothemay, 
A  man  of  micht  and  mekle  main, 
Grit  dolour  was  for  his  decay 
That  sae  unhappylie  was  slain. 


DXII.  THE  BATTLE  OF  HAHLAW. 


453 


XXVI. 

Of  the  best  men  amang  them  was 
The  gracious  gude  Lord  Ogilvy, 
The  sheriff-principal  of  Angus 
Renownit  for  truth  and  equitie, 
For  faith  and  magnanimitie  ; 
He  had  few  fallows  in  the  feild 
Zit  fell  by  fatal  destinie, 
For  he  nae  ways  wad  grant  to  zield. 

XXVII. 

Sir  James  Scrimgeor  of  Duddop,  knicht, 
Grit  Constabill  of  fair  Dundee, 
Unto  the  duleful  deith  was  dicht, 
The  King's  chief  banner-man  was  he, 
A  valiant  man  of  chevalrie, 
Quhais  predecessors  wan  that  place 
At  Spey,  with  gude  King  William  frie, 
Gainst  Murray  and  Macdun can's  race. 

XXVIII. 

Gude  Sir  Alexander  Irving, 
The  much  renownit  laird  of  Drum, 
Nane  in  his  days  was  better  sene, 
Quhen  they  were  semblitall  and  sum, 
To  praise  him  we  sould  not  be  dumm, 
For  valour,  witt,  and  worthy  ness, 
To  end  his  days  he  there  did  cum, 
Quhois  ransom  is  remeidyless. 

xxix. 

And  there  the  knicht  of  Lawriston 
Was  slain  into  his  armour  schene  ; 
And  gude  Sir  Robert  Davidson, 
Quha  Provost  was  of  Aberdene  ; 
The  knicht  of  Panmuir,  als  was  sene, 
A  mortal  man  in  armour  bricht, 
Sir  Thomas  Murray,  stout  and  kene, 
Left  to  the  world  thair  lost  gude  nicht. 

XXX. 

There  was  not  sin  King  Keneth's  days 
Sic  strange  intestine  cruel  stryf 
In  Scotland  sene,  as  ilk  man  says, 
Quhair  mony  liklie  lost  thair  lyfe  ; 
Quhilk  made  divorce  twene  man  and  wyfe 
And  mony  children  fatherless, 
Quhilk  in  this  realm  hath  been  full  ryfe 
Lord  help  these  lands,  our  wrangs  redress ' 


454 


DXII.— THE  BATTLE  OF  HAUL  AW. 


XXXI. 

In  July,  on  Saint  James  his  even', 
That  four-and-twenty  dismall  day, 
Twelve  hundred  ten  score  and  eleven 
Of  Zeirs  sen  Chryst,  the  suth  to  say  ; 
Men  will  remember,  as  they  may, 
Quhen  thus  the  verite  they  know, 
And  mony  ane  may  mourn  for  ay 
The  brim  battill  of  the  Harlaw. 

In  the  reign  of  Henry  the  II.  of  England,  Scotland  was  torn 
by  intestine  broils  and  insurrections.  This  was  occasioned 
by  the  servile  conduct  towards  that  monarch,  both  by  Mal- 
com,  and  his  brother  and  successor  William,  kings  of  Scot- 
land, which  disgusted  and  enraged  the  Scottish  chiefs.  Du- 
ring the  reign  of  William,  Donald,  another  Lord  of  the  Isles, 
likewise  invaded  Scotland,  and  committed  horrid  ravages  in 
the  counties  of  Ross  and  Murray.  This  person  was  a  pro- 
genitor of  the  Donald  mentioned  in  the  ballad,  and  claimed 
the  crown  in  right  of  Duncan,  the  bastard  King  of  Scots. 
This  circumstance  is  alluded  to  in  stanza  xxvii.  On  the 
5th  July  1187,  however,  Roland,  the  gallant  hero  of  Gal- 
loway, decided  the  fate  of  the  older  Donald,  who  was  slain  in 
an  accidental  rencounter  of  a  foraging  party,  and  the  greater 
part  of  his  followers  were  put  to  the  sword. 

The  wild  melody,  to  which  the  ballad  of  Harlaw  is  adapt- 
ed in  the  Museum,  is  evidently  the  progenitor  of  the  old 
Highland  Pibroch  formerly  mentioned.  The  second  stanza 
is  merely  a  slight  alteration  of  the  first. 

DXIII. 

O  BOTHWELL  BANK,  THOU  BLOOMEST  FAIR. 

This  song  was  written  by  Mr  John  Pinkerton,  the  historian, 
who  is  a  native  of  Edinburgh.  The  words  are  adapted  to  a 
fine  modern  air,  which  was  composed  by  Mr  Fergus,  organist 
of  the  Episcopal  Chapel,  Glasgow. 

In  1783,  Mr  Pinkerton  published  this  song,  alongst  with 
several  other  pieces,  as  genuine  old  Scottish  reliques.  The 
forgery  of  these  poems,  however,  being  detected  by  a  gen- 
tleman, who  directly  accused  Mr  P.  by  a  letter  inserted  in 


DXIII.  O  BOTHWELL  BANK,  THOU  BLOOMEST  FAIR.  455 


the  Gentleman's  Magazine,  for  November  1784-.  Our  his- 
torian confessed  himself  guilty.  In  palliation  of  his  conduct, 
he  pleads  his  youth  and  purity  of  intention ;  professing  that 
the  imposition  was  only  intended  to  give  pleasure  to  the 
world.  "  All  which,  (says  the  satirical  Ritson,)  it  is  to  be 
hoped  he  has  found  some  charitable  person  to  believe!" 
Ritson's  Essay  on  Scottish  Song,  p.  77. 

Burns  makes  the  following  remark  on  this  song  :  «  This 
modern  thing  of  Pinkerton's  could  never  pass  for  old,  but 
among  the  sheer  ignorant.  What  poet  of  the  olden  time,  or 
indeed  of  any  time,  ever  said  or  wrote  any  thing  like  the 
line — 

(c  Without  ae  flouir  his  grave  to  crown." 
"  This  is  not  only  the  pedantry  of  tenderness,  but  the 
very  bathos  of  bad  writing."    See  Select  Scottish  Songs,  with 
Critical  Remarks  by  Burns;  edited  by  Cromek.    2  vols. 
London.  1810. 

It  is  neither  the  Editor's  intention  to  palliate  imposition, 
nor  defend  poetry  that  is  really  bad ;  but  he  is  of  opinion, 
that  a  slight  alteration  of  the  second  stanza  is  all  that  the 
song  requires  to  render  it  unexceptionable.  Indeed  Burns, 
in  one  of  his  letters,  (see  vol.  iv.  letter  No  28,  in  Dr  Currie  s 
edition,)  afterwards  admits,  that  "  Mr  Pinkerton,  in  his 
what  he  calls  ancient  ballads,  many  of  them,  though  notori- 
ous, are  beautiful  enough  forgeries." 

DXIV. 
WEE  WILLY  GRAY. 

This  comic  little  song,  intended  for  the  nursery,  was  written 
by  Burns.  It  is  adapted  to  the  lively  tune,  called,  «  Wee 
Totum  Fogg;"  the  first  line  of  a  much  older  ditty  of  the 
same  description,  which  Burns  must  have  had  in  view  when 
he  wrote  the  words  for  the  Museum.    It  began, 

Wee  Totum  Fogg- 
Sits  upon  a  creepie ; 
Half  an  ell  o'  gray 
Wad  be  his  coat  and  breekie. 
2  K 


456 


DXIV.  WEE  WILLY  GRAY. 


These  old  tunes—  Wee  Totum  Fogg— The  Dusty  Miller- 
Go  to  Berwick,  Johnnie — Mount  your  Baggage — Robin 
Shure  in  Hardest — Jockey  said  to  Jenny,  fyc.  §c,  have  been 
played  in  Scotland,  time  out  of  mind,  as  a  particular  species 
of  "  the  double  hornpipe"'  The  late  James  Allan,  piper  to 
the  Duke  of  Northumberland,  assured  the  present  Editor, 
that  this  peculiar  measure  originated  in  the  borders  of  Eng- 
land and  Scotland.  Playford  has  inserted  several  of  them 
in  his  "  Dancing  Master,"  first  published  in  1658.  Some 
modern  imitations  of  this  old  style  appear  in  Gow's  Repo- 
sitories, and  several  other  collections  of  Scotch  tunes. 

DXV. 

LAMMINGTON  RACES. 

This  ballad,  beginning  "  When  the  days  they  are  lang," 
commemorates  a  horse-race  of*  Lammington,  in  the  county  of 
Lanark.  It  possesses  considerable  humour ;  and  the  tune  to 
which  it  is  adapted  is  lively  enough  ;  but  aWjeua:  oVesprit,  of 
a  local  or  personal  nature,  generally  cease  to  be  interesting 
when  the  original  characters  are  no  more.  The  song  was 
written  by  Mr  Macaulay,  an  acquaintance  of  Mr  Johnson ; 
but  the  composer  of  the  air  is  unknown. 

DXV  I. 

THE  BANKS  OF  THE  DEE. 

This  charming  song,  beginning  "  'Twas  summer,  and 
softly  the  breezes  were  blowing,"  was  written  by  the  late  John 
Tait,  Esq.  writer  to,  the  signet,  and  some  time  judge  of  the 
Police  Court,  Edinburgh.  It  is  adapted  to  the  Irish  air 
called  Langolee.  This  song  has  often,  though  erroneously, 
been  attributed  to  the  Rev.  Mr  John  Home,  author  of  the 
tragedy  of  "  Douglas.'"  It  was  inserted  in  Wilson's  Collec- 
tion of  Songs,  printed  at  Edinburgh  1779,  with  some  addi- 
tional stanzas  written  by  Miss  Betsy  B — s ;  but  the  lady's 
verses  are  far  inferior  to  the  original.  Mr  T  ait's  song  was 
written  in  1775,  on  the  departure  of  a  friend  for  America  to 
join  the  British  forces,  who  were  at  that  time  endeavouring 
"  to  quell  the  proud  rebels'0  of  Columbia ;  but  the  issue  of 


DXVI.  THE  BANKS  OF  THE  DEE.  457 

that  contest  was  very  different  from  the  anticipations  of  the 
bard.  The  Americans,  after  a  long  and  arduous  contest, 
proved  ultimately  successful ;  and  their  independence  was 
acknowledged,  on  the  part  of  Great  Britain,  by  a  treaty  of 
peace  ratified  in  1783. 

Burns,  in  one  of  his  letters  to  Mr  George  Thomson,  dated 
7th  April  1793,  says,  «  The  Banks  of  the  Dee  is,  you  know, 
literally  Langolee,  to  slow  time.  The  song  is  well  enough' 
but  has  some  false  imagery  in  it ;  for  instance, 

"  And  sweetly  the  nightingale  sung  from  the  tree." 

«  In  the  first  place,  the  nightingale  sings  in  a  low  bush,  but 
never  from  a  tree ;  and  in  the  second  place,  there  never  was 
a  nightingale  seen  or  heard  on  the  banks  of  the  Dee,  or  on 
the  banks  of  any  other  river  in  Scotland.  Exotic  rural 
imagery  is  always  comparatively  flat." 

The  justice  of  these  remarks  appears  to  have  been  admit- 
ted by  Mr  Tait ;  for  in  a  new  edition  of  the  song,  retouched 
by  himself,  thirty  years  after  its  first  appearance,  for  Mr 
Thomson's  Collection,  and  published  in  the  fourth  volume  of 
that  work,  the  first  half  stanza  is  printed  thus  

'Twas  summer,  and  softly  the  breezes  were  blowing, 
And  sweetly  the  wood-pigeon  coo'd  from  the  tree. 
At  the  foot  of  a  rock,  where  the  wild-rose  was  growing, 
I  sat  myself  down  on  the  banks  of  the  Dee. 

The  only  other  corrections  and  alterations  are  as  follow—. 

Stanza  II.  line  5, 
For  loud  roaring,  read  rude  roaring. 
Stanza  II.  line  8, 
For  And  left  me  to  stray  'mongst  these  once  loved  willows, 
Read  And  left  me  to  wander  'mongst  these  once  loved  willows. 
Stanza  III.  line  2, 
For  dear  shepherd,  read  dear  Jamie. 

DXVII. 

SCENES  OF  WOE  AND  SCENES  OF  PLEASURE. 
This  elegant  and  pathetic  song  was  written  by  Mr  Richard 
Gall,  who  has  already  been  noticed  in  a  former  part  of  this 


458      DXVII.  SCENES  OF  WOE  AND  SCENES  OF  PLEASURE. 

work. — Vide  Notes  on  Song  No  508.  The  air  to  which  it  is 
adapted  was  composed  by  Mr  Allan  Masterton,  who  has  also 
been  often  mentioned  in  the  course  of  the  present  Editor's 
remarks. 

The  following  particulars  respecting  this  song  are  extracted 
from  Mr  Stark's  Sketch  of  the  Life  of  Richard  Gall,  printed  in 
the  Biographia  Scotica,  at  Edinburgh,  1805.  44  One  of  Mr 
Gall's  songs  in  particular,  the  original  of  which  I  have  by  me, 
has  acquired  a  degree  of  praise,  from  its  having  been  printed 
amongst  the  works  of  Burns,  and  generally  thought  the  pro- 
duction of  that  poet.  The  reverse,  indeed,  was  only  known 
to  a  few  of  Mr  Gall's  friends,  to  whom  he  communicated  the 
verses  before  they  were  published.  The  fame  of  Burns  stands 
in  no  need  of  the  aid  of  others  to  support  it ;  and  to  render 
back  the  song  in  question  to  its  true  author,  is  but  an  act  of 
distributive  justice,  due  alike  to  both  these  departed  poets, 
whose  ears  are  now  equally  insensible  to  the  incense  of  flat- 
tery or  the  slanders  of  malevolence.  At  the  time  when  the 
4  Scots  Musical  Museum'  was  published  at  Edinburgh  by 
Mr  Johnson,  several  of  Burns's  songs  made  their  appearance 
in  that  publication.  Mr  Gall  wrote  the  song  entitled  4  Fare- 
well to  Ayrshire,'  prefixed  Burns'  name  to  it,  and  sent  it  ano- 
nymously to  the  publisher  of  that  work.  From  thence  it  has 
been  copied  into  the  later  editions  of  the  works  of  Burns.  In 
publishing  the  song  in  this  manner,  Mr  Gall  probably  thought, 
that  under  the  sanction  of  a  name  known  to  the  world, 
might  acquire  that  notice,  which,  in  other  circumstances,  il 
might  never  have  obtained,  but  have  been  doomed  to  waste 
its  sweetness  in  the  desart  air" 

The  particulars  mentioned  in  the  preceding  extract  by  M 
Stark,  who  was  intimately  acquainted  with  Mr  Gall,  (both  o 
them  being  employed  in  the  same  printing-office,)  may  be  re 
lied  upon  as  being  correct.  The  manuscript  of  the  song,  i 
the  hand-writing  of  Mr  Gall,  is  in  the  possession  of  the 
Editor 


459 


DXVIII. 
GO  TO  BERWICK,  JOHNNY. 

Ritson  says,  he  "  has  heard  gravely  asserted  in  Edinburgh, 
that  a  foolish  song,  beginning 

Go,  go,  go, 

Go  to  Berwick,  Johnny  ; 
Thou  shalt  have  the  horse, 
And  I  shall  have  the  poney, 

was  actually  made  on  one  of  Sir  William  Wallace  the  ScoU 
tish  hero's  marauding  expeditions  ;  and  that  the  person  thus 
addressed  was  no  other  than  his  Jidus  Achates,  Sir  John 
Graham. — Historical  Essay  on  Scottish  Song,  p.  26.  The 
writer  of  this  note,  however,  can  safely  aver,  that  he  never 
heard  such  an  assertion  from  the  lips  of  any  Scotsman,  nor 
ever  saw  such  an  allegation  in  print,  till  he  met  with  Ritson's 
Essay.  That  gentleman  must  certainly  have  been  imposed 
upon  by  the  gravity  of  some  wag.  The  silly  old  verses  are 
usually  chanted  by  nurses  to  divert  their  little  ones,  and 
have  not  the  smallest  allusion  either  to  Wallace  or  Graham. 

The  words,  which  are  adapted  to  the  old  air  in  the  Mu- 
seum, were  written  by  the  late  Mr  John  Hamilton,  music- 
seller  in  Edinburgh,  who  contributed  several  songs  to  the 
same  work.  Oswald  published  the  air,  with  variations,  in  his 
Caledonian  Pocket  Companion.  It  has  since  been  arranged 
as  a  rondo  for  the  piano-forte,  by  various  masters. 

DXIX. 

'TWAS  AT  THE  SHINING  MID-DAY  HOUR. 

This  burlesque  parody  of  Mallet's  beautiful  ballad  of 
"  William  and  Margaret,""  was  written  by  Allan  Ramsay  for 
the  fourth  volume  of  his  Tea-Table  Miscellany,  where  it 
made  its  first  appearance  under  the  title  of  "  Watty  and 
Madge.1'  The  words  are  adapted  to  a  fine  old  tune,  called 
The  Maid  in  the  Mill,  taken  from  the  seventh  volume  of 
Oswald's  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  p.  27. 

The  reader  will  find  Mallet's  ballad  of  William  and  Mar- 
garet, adapted  to  a  fine  air  composed  by  the  late  Mr  Stephen 


460    ,  DXIX. — 'twas  at  the  shining  mid-day  hour. 

Clarke,  in  the  sixth  volume  of  the  Museum. — Vide  Song  No 
536.  In  the  second  edition  of  the  Orpheus  Caledonius, 
printed  in  1733,  Mr  William  Thomson,  the  editor  of  that 
work,  adapted  Mallet's  ballad  to  the  old  tune  of  Chevy  Chace. 

DXX. 

HAVE  YOU  ANY  POTS  OR  PANS? 

This  humorous  song  was  written  by  Allan  Ramsay,  and 
published  in  his  Tea-Table  Miscellany  1724,  as  a  substitute 
for  the  words  of  the  old  song  called  "  Clout  the  Cauldron." 
The  original  tune  is  printed  in  the  first  volume  of  the  Mu- 
seum, p.  24,  with  some  curious  Scoto- Gaelic  verses.^ — See  the 
Notes  on  that  Song,  No  23. 

In  the  sixth  volume  of  the  Museum,  Ramsay's  verses  are 
adapted  to  the  favourite  strathspey,  called  "  Cameron  has  got 
his  Wife  again." 

DXXI. 

NOW  BANK  AND  BRAE  ARE  CLOTHED  WITH  GREEN. 

This  fine  Scottish  pastoral  song  was  written  by  Gall,  and 
is  printed  in  his  poetical  works.  The  words  are  adapted  to 
a  very  beautiful  tune,  called  M  Cassilis  Banks." 

"  Girvan's  fairy-haunted  stream,"  is  a  well  known  river  in 
Ayrshire,  which  rises  in  the  parish  of  Dailly,  and  after 
meandering  through  the  district  of  Carrick,  pours  its  waters 
into  the  Irish  Channel  at  the  ancient  village  of  Girvan,  to 
which  it  gives  its  name. 

DXXII. 

AE  DAY  A  BRAW  WOOER. 

This  humorous  song  was  written  by  Burns  in  1787,  for 
the  second  volume  of  the  Museum ;  but  Johnson,  the  pub- 
lisher, who  was  a  religious  and  well-meaning  man,  appeared 
fastidious  about  its  insertion,  as  one  or  two  expressions  in  it 
seemed  somewhat  irreverent.  Burns  afterwards  made  several 
alterations  upon  the  song,  and  sent  it  to  Mr  George  Thom- 
son for  his  Collection,  who  readily  admitted  it  into  his  se- 
cond volume,  and  the  song  soon  became  very  popular. 
Johnson,  however,  did  not  consider  it  at  all  improved  by  the 


DXXJI.  AE  DAY  A  Ml  AW  WOO  EH. 


461 


later  alterations  of  our  bard.  It  soon  appeared  to  him  to 
have  lost  much  of  its  pristine  humour  and  simplicity ;  and 
the  phrases  which  he  had  objected  to  were  changed  greatly 
for  the  worse.  He  therefore  published  the  song  as  originally 
written  by  Burns  for  his  work.  In  order  to  enable  the  reader 
to  judge  how  far  Johnson  was,  or  was  not  correct,  both  edi- 
tions of  the  song  are  here  annexed. 

FIRST  EDITION. 

Ae  day  a  braw  wooer  came  down  the  lang  glen. 
And  sair  wi'  his  love  he  did  deave  me  ; 
But  I  said  there  was  naething  I  hated  like  men  ; 
The  deuce  gae  wi'  him  to  believe  me  ! 

A  weel  stockit  mailen  himsel  o't  the  laird, 
And  bridal  aff  han'  was  the  proffer ; 
I  never  loot  on  that  I  kend  or  I  card, 
But  thought  I  might  get  a  waur  offer. 

He  spak  o'  the  darts  o'  my  bonnie  black  een, 
And  said  for  my  love  he  was  diem*  ; 
I  said  he  might  die  when  he  liket,  for  Jean ; 
The  gude  forgie  me  for  liein  f 

But  what  do  ye  think,  in  a  fortnight  or  less, 
(The  deii's  in  his  taste  to  gae  near  her,) 
He's  down  to  the  castle  to  black  cousin  Bess, 
Think,  how  the  jade  I  could  bear  her. 

An'  a'  the  niest  ouk  as  I  fretted  wi'  care, 
I  gaed  to  the  tryst  o'  Dalgarnock  ; 
And  wha  but  my  braw  fickle  wooer  was  there, 
Wha  glowr'd  as  if  he'd  seen  a  warlock. 

Out  oure  my  left  shouther  I  gied  him  a  blink, 
Lest  neighbours  shou'd  think  I  was  saucy, 
My  wooer  he  caper'd  as  he'd  been  in  drink, 
And  vow'd  that  I  was  his  dear  lassie. 

I  spier'd  for  my  cousin,  fu'  couthie  and  sweet, 
An'  if  she  had  recover'd  her  hearin'  ? 
And  how  my  auld  shoon  fitted  her  shauchel't  feet  ? 
Gude  saf  us  how  he  fell  a  swearin' ! 

He  begg'd  me  for  gudesake  that  I'd  be  his  wife, 
Or  else  I  wad  kill  him  wi'  sorrow  ; 
And  just  to  preserve  the  poor  body  in  life, 
I  think  I  will  wed  him  to-morrow. 

7 


dxxii 


,  AE  DAY  A  DRAW  WOOER. 


SECOND  EDITION. 

Last  May  a  braw  wooer  cam  down  the  lang  glen, 
And  sair  wi'  his  love  he  did  deave  me. 
I  said  there  was  naething  I  hated  like  men  ; 
The  deuce  gae  wi'm,  to  believe  me,  believe  me, 
The  deuce  gae  wi'm,  to  believe  me/ 

He  spak  o'  the  darts  o'  my  bonnie  black  een, 
And  vow'd  for  my  love  he  was  dying ; 
I  said  he  might  die  when  he  lik'd,  for  Jean, 
The  Lord  forgie  me  for  lying,  for  lying, 
The  Lord  forgie  me  for  lying  ! 

A  weel-stockit  mailen  himsel  for  the  laird, 

And  marriage  aff-hand  were  the  proffers ; 

I  never  loot  on  that  I  kend  it  or  card, 

But  thought  I  might  hae  waur  offers,  waur  offers, 

But  thought  I  might  hae  waur  offers. 

But  what  wad-  ye  think  ?  in  a  fortnight  or  less, 

(The  deil  tak  his  taste  to  gae  near  her) 

He's  up  the  lang  loan  to  my  black  cousin  Bess, 

Guess  ye  how,  the  jad !  I  could  bear  her,  could  bear  her, 

Guess  ye  how,  the  jad  !  I  could  bear  her. 

But  a'  the  niest  week,  as  I  fretted  with  care, 
I  gaed  to  the  tryst  of  Dalgarnock, 
And  wha  but  my  fine  fickle  lover  was  there  ! 
I  glowr'd  as  I'd  seen  a  warlock,  a  warlock, 
I  glowr'd  as  I'd  seen  a  warlock. 

But  owre  my  left  shouther  I  gae  him  a  blink, 
Least  neebors  might  say  I  was  saucy ; 
My  wooer  he  caper'd  as  he'd  been  in  drink, 
And  vow'd  I  was  his  dear  lassie,  dear  lassie, 
And  vow'd  I  was  his  dear  lassie. 

I  spier'd  for  my  cousin,  fu'  couthy  an'  sweet, 
Gin  she  had  recover'd  her  hearin, 
And  how  her  new  shoon  fit  her  auld  shackl't  feet, 
But,  Heavens !  how  he  fell  a  swearin,  a  swearin, 
But,  Heavens  !  how  he  fell  a  swearin. 

He  begged,  for  gudesake  !  I  wad  be  his  wife, 

Or  else  I  wad  kill  him  wi'  sorrow : 

So  e'en  to  preserve  the  poor  body  in  life, 

I  think  I  maun  wed  him  to-morrow,  to-morrow, 

I  think  I  maun  wed  him  to-morrow. 

These  alterations,  in  general,  are  certainly  far  from  being 
the  happiest  style  of  Burns.    Indeed  he  appears  to  have 


DXXII.— AK  DAY  A  BRAW  WOOER.  463 

been  in  bad  health  and  spirits  when  he  made  them ;  for,  in 
the  letter  inclosing  the  song,  he  says,  «  I  am  at  present 
quite  occupied  with  the  charming  sensations  of  the  tooth- 
ach,  so  have  not  a  word  to  spare." 

Dr  Currie  likewise  informs  us,  that  the  third  line  of  the 
fourth  stanza,  in  the  manuscript  sent  to  Mr  Thomson,  runs 
"  He  up  the  Gateslack  to  my  black  cousin  Bess but  Mr 
T.  objected  to  this  word,  as  well  as  to  the  word  Dalgarnock 
in  the  next  verse.    Burns  replied  as  follows  : 

"  Gateslack  is  the  name  of  a  particular  place ;  a  kind  of 
passage  up  among  the  Lauther  hills,  on  the  confines  of  this 
county  (Dumfries-shire).  Dalgarnock  is  also  the  remains  of 
a  romantic  spot  near  the  Nith,  where  are  still  a  ruined  church 
and  a  burial  ground.  However,  let  the  first  line  run,  «  He 
up  the  lang  loan"  &c. 

Dr  Currie  remarks,  that  «  It  is  always  a  pity  to  throw  out 
any  thing  that  gives  locality  to  our  poet's  verses." 

It  only  remains  to  be  observed,  that  this  song  is  adapted 
to  the  tune  called  The  Queen  of  the  Lothians,  the  name  of 
a  curious  old  ballad,  which  is  produced  in  the  sixth  volume 
of  the  Museum,  and  inserted  after  the  modern  verses  by  Burns. 

DXXIII. 
GUDEEN  TO  YOU,  KIMMER. 
This  comic  song  was  corrected  by  Burns.  The  greater 
part  of  the  verses,  however,  are  taken  from  the  old  satirical 
song  formerly  sung  to  that  tune  of  «  John  Anderson  my  Jo  " 
See  the  notes  on  that  song,  No  260.  The  words  are  adapted 
to  the  old  tune  of  "We're  a'  nid  noddin  in  our  House  at  hame." 

DXXIV. 

IN  BRECHIN  DID  A  WABSTER  DWELL. 
This  is  only  a  fragment  of  a  long  ballad  frequently  heard 
at  country  firesides,  entitled  «  The  Brechin  Weaver."  It 
possesses  some  traits  of  humour,  though  not  of  the  first  or- 
der.  The  specimen  in  the  Museum  is  certainly  quite  enough 
The  tune  to  which  the  ballad  is  chanted,  however,  is  very 
pretty.  J 


464 


DXXV. 

WILLY'S  RARE  AND  WILLY'S  FAIR. 
This  ancient  fragment,  with  its  original  air,  was  copied 
from  Thomson's  Orpheus  Caledonius.    London,  1725.  The 
editor  has  often  heard  the  following  additional  stanza,  though 
it  is  omitted  by  Thomson. 

She's  taen  three  links  o'  her  gowden  locks ; 
That  hung  down  lang  and  yallow, 
She's  tied  them  about  sweet  Willy's  waist, 
And  drawn  him  out  of  Yarrow. 

This  poetical  relique  of  some  ancient  and  long  forgotten 
minstrel,  has  given  rise  to  two  beautiful  modern  ballads. 
The  first  of  these,  entitled,  "  The  Braes  of  Yarrow,"  was 
written  in  imitation  of  the  ancient  Scottish  manner,  and  in- 
scribed to  Lady  Jane  Home,  by  William  Hamilton  of  Ban- 
gour,  Esq.,  prior  to  the  year  1724;  It  is  printed  in  Ram- 
say's Tea-table  Miscellany  of  that  date ;  and  in  the  following 
year,  Thomson  published  it  adapted  to  the  old  tune  of  one 
strain  in  his  Orpheus  Caledonius.  The  first  half  stanza  of 
Bangour's  ballad,  beginning,  "  Busk  ye,  busk  ye,  my  bonny 
bonny  bride?  is  all  that  remains  of  the  old  song,  called  "  The 
Braes  of  Yarrow."  Ramsay  has  also  preserved  the  first  half 
stanza  of  the  original  verses,  in  the  song  which  he  wrote  to 
the  same  tune.  See  the  first  volume  of  the  Museum,  page 
65.  The  other  ballad,  of  *  The  Braes  of  Yarrow,"  was  writ- 
ten by  the  late  Rev.  Mr  John  Logan,  one  of  the  ministers  of 
Leith.    It  begins, 

Thy  braes  were  bonny,  Yarrow  stream  ! 
When  first  on  them  I  met  my  lover, 
Thy  braes  how  dreary,  Yarrow  stream  ! 
When  now  thy  waves  his  body  cover. 

Both  these  ballads  may  be  seen  in  the  poetical  works  of 
their  respective  authors,  and  in  various  other  collections  of 
poetry.  It  appears,  on  comparing  Ban  gour"  s  ballad,  as  in- 
serted in  the  Tea-table  Miscellany,  and  the  Orpheus  Caledo- 


DXXV. — willy's  rare  and  willy's  fair. 


465 


nius,  with  a  later  version  in  the  author's  poetical  works,  that 
he  had  made  some  slight  corrections  on  the  earlier  edition. 

It  remains  to  be  observed,  that  in  the  year  1777,  the  words 
of  this  ancient  song  received  some  alterations  and  additions 
from  the  pen  of  an  Englishman,  which  were  set  to  a  beautiful 
modern  air,  composed  by  Mr  James  Hook  of  London.  This 
Anglo-Scottish  production  was  sung  by  Mrs  Wrighten  at 
Vauxhall  with  much  applause  in  the  summer  of  1777,  and 
was  published  among  the  other  Vauxhall  songs  of  that  year. 
It  has  since  been  frequently  reprinted. 

dxxvi. 

MY  DADDY  LEFT  ME  GEAR  ENOUGH. 
This  humorous  old  ballad  was  taken  from  Thomson's 
Orpheus  Caledonius,  printed  with  the  music  in  ]  725,  under 
the  title  of  "  Willie  Winkie's  Testament;'  The  enumeration 
of  the  testator's  goods  and  effects  is  extremely  comic.  This 
curious  ballad  appears  to  have  been  unknown  to  Ramsay,  as 
it  is  omitted  in  the  Tea-Table  Miscellany. 

DXXVII. 

STERN  WINTER  HAS  LEFT  US. 

First  Set. 

Tins  ballad  was  copied  from  Yair's  Charmer,  vol.  ii.  print- 
ted  at  Edinburgh  in  1721.  The  original  air,  under  the  title 
of  «  Jocky  and  Jenny,"  is  inserted  in  the  fifth  volume  of 
Oswald's  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  p.  31. 

This  appears  to  have  been  a  very  popular  song,  both  in 
England  and  Scotland,  about  the  middle  of  the  last  century, 
for  the  verses,  although  adapted  to  a  different  air  from  that 
in  Oswald's  Collection,  are  printed  in  the  *  The  Muses  De- 
light" at  Liverpool  in  1754,  under  the  title  of  «  Jocky  and 
Jenny,  a  dialogue  sung  by  Mr  Lowe  and  Miss  Falkner." 

In,  the  Museum  this  ballad  is  adapted  to  two  tunes.  The 
first  set  a  Gaelic  air.    The  other  is  an  Irish  melody. 


466 


DXXVIII. 
STERN  WINTER  HAS  LEFT  US. 

Second  Set. 

This  is  the  ballad  J ocky  and  Jenny,  above  noticed,  adapt- 
ed to  the  Irish  tune  called  Kitty  TyrelU  Johnson  had 
heard  the  ballad  sung  to  both  tunes,  and  being  unable  to  de- 
cide which  was  best,  he  inserted  them  both  that  the  singer 
might  choose  for  himself.  This  ballad  has  therefore  been 
adapted  to  four  different  tunes.  The  original  Scottish  air  is 
in  Oswald  ;  the  English  air  in  the  "  Muses  Delight and  the 
Irish  and  Gaelic  tunes  the  in  Museum. 

DXXIX. 

AH,  MARY  !  SWEETEST  MAID,  FAREWELL. 
This  charming  pastoral  dialogue,  between  Willie  and  Mary, 
was  written  by  Alexander  Boswell  of  Auchinleck,  Esq.  M.  P. 
It  was  originally  published  as  a  single  sheet  song,  by  Messrs 
Gow  &  Shepherd,  music-sellers  in  Edinburgh.  Mr  Na- 
thaniel Gow  tells  me,  it  was  at  his  particular  request  that  Mr 
Boswell  furnished  him  with  the  words.  The  verses  are 
adapted  to  the  beautiful  slow  strathspey  tune  called  "  The 
Maid  of  Isla,"  which  was  communicated  to  Mr  Gow  by  the 
late  Colonel  John  Campbell  of  Shawfield  and  his  Lady. 

DXXX. 

ANNA  THY  CHARMS  MY  BOSOM  FIRE. 
This  sweet  song  of  two  stanzas  was  written  by  Burns,  and 
published  in  the  Edinburgh  edition  of  his  Poems  in  1787. 
It  is  adapted  to  a  very  beautiful  and  plaintive  air  composed 
by  Oswald,  and  published  in  the  first  volume  of  his  Ca- 
ledonian Pocket  Companion,  under  the  title  of  "  Bonny 
Mary." 

DXXXI. 

THY  CHEEK  IS  O'  THE  ROSE'S  HUE. 
This  beautiful  song,  which  is  another  of  the  productions 
of  the  late  Mr  Richard  Gall,  was  written  at  the  earnest  re- 
quest of  Mr  Thomas  Oliver,  Printer  and  Publisher,  Edin- 
burgh, an  intimate  acquaintance  of  the  author's.    Mr  Oliver 

5 


DXXXI.  THY  CHEEK  IS  o'  THE  ROSE's  HUE.  467 

heard  it  sung  in  the  Pantomime  of  Harlequin  Highlander,  at 
the  Circus,  and  was  so  struck  with  the  melody,  that  it  dwelt 
upon  his  mind  ;  but  the  only  part  of  the  words  he  recollected 
were, 

My  love's  the  sweetest  creature, 
That  ever  trode  the  dewy  green  ; 
Her  cheeks  they  are  like  roses, 
Wi'  the  op'ning  gowan  wet  between.  

And  having  no  way  of  procuring  the  verses  he  had  heard,  he 
requested  Mr  Gall  to  write  words  to  his  favourite'tune.  Our 
young  bard  promised  to  do  so  ;  and  in  a  few  days  presented 
him  with  this  elegant  song,  in  which  the  title  of  the  tune  is 
happily  introduced  at  the  close  of  every  stanza. 

DXXXII. 

0  AY  MY  WIFE  SHE  DANG  ME. 
This  humorous  song  was  written  by  Burns  for  the  Mu- 
seum. The  old  air  to  which  his  verses  are  adapted,  orioi- 
nally  consisted  of  one  strain,  but  Oswald  made  two  variations 
to  it,  and  published  them  with  the  old  melody  in  his  Cale- 
donian Pocket  Companion,  book  vi.  p.  iv.  under  the  title  of 
«  My  wife  she  dang  me/'  The  tune  in  the  Museum  is  com- 
posed of  the  original  melody,  and  the  first  of  Oswald's  varia- 
tions. I  have  heard  several  of  the  old  verses  sung,  but  they 
are  of  such  a  nature  as  to  render  them  quite  unfit  for  inser- 
tion. 

DXXXIII. 
COME  UNDER  MY  PLAIDY. 

This  fine  ballad  is  another  production  of  my  late  friend, 
Hector  Macneill,  Esq.  who  has  frequently  been  noticed  in  the 
course  of  this  work.  It  is  adapted  to  a  lively  air  called 
"  Johny  M'Gill,"  after  the  name  of  its  composer,  Mr  John 
M'Gill,  who  was  a  musician  in  Girvan,  Ayrshire.  Burns 
likewise  wrote  some  verses  to  the  same  tune,  which  are  in- 
serted in  the  third  volume  of  the  Museum.  Vide  Notes  on 
Song  No.  207. 


468 


DXXXIV. 
COME  FOLLOW,  FOLLOW  ME. 

Neither  the  words  nor  music  of  this  excellent  old  ballad, 
entitled  "  The  Fairy  Elves,1'  are  of  Scottish  origin,  although 
it  has  long  been  a  favourite  in  Scotland.  The  poetry  is  at- 
tributed to  Christopher  Mario w,  and  the  melody  to  John 
Dowland,  both  Englishmen.  The  former  was  an  eminent- 
dramatic.poet,  and  the  latter  a  celebrated  musician,  in  the  reign 
of  Queen  Elizabeth.  Marlow  fell  a  victim  to  jealousy,  the 
most  torturing  passion  of  the  human  breast ;  he  was  stabbed 
in  a  brothel,  by  a  fellow  whom  he  found  with  his  mistress,  and, 
notwithstanding  the  best  medical  care  and  attention,  died 
soon  after,  in  1593. 

Mr  Gay,  author  of  "  The  Beggar's  Opera,"  wrote  the  fol- 
lowing words  to  the  same  old  tune  in  another  musical  opera 
of  his,  called  "  Achilles,1"'  printed  with  the  music  prefixed  to 
each  song  by  John  Watts  of  London,  in  1733,  after  the 
author's  decease. 

Air. — Fairy  Elves. 

O  guard  your  hours  from  care, 

Of  Jealousy  beware  ; 

For  she  with  fancied  sprites, 

Herself  torments  and  frights  ; 

Thus  she  frets,  and  pines,  and  grieves, 

Raising  fears  that  she  believes. 

Bishop  Percy  published  an  edition  of  the  Fairy  Elves  in 
1765,  taken  from  an  old  black  letter  copy,  under  title  of 
"  The  Fairy  Queen.""  The  ancient  set  of  the  air  and  that  in 
the  Museum  are  very  similar. 

DXXXV. 

LORD  THOMAS  AND  FAIR  ANNET. 

Bishop  Percy,  who  published  this  fine  old  Scottish  bal- 
lad in  his  Reliques  of  Ancient  English  Poetry  in  1765,  from 
a  manuscript  transmitted  to  him  from  Scotland,  observes,  that 
it  seems  to  be  composed  (not  without  improvements)  out  of 
two  ancient  English  ones.    The  first  of  these  is  entitled  "  A 


DXXXV.  LORD  THOMAS  AND  FAIR  ANNET.  469 

tragical  Ballad  on  the  unfortunate  Love  of  Lord  Thomas 
and  Fair  EJlinor ;  together  with  the  Downfall  of  the  Browne 
Girl."    The  second  is  "  Fair  Margaret's  Misfortunes,  or 
Sweet  William's  frightful  Dreams  on  his  Wedding  Night ; 
with  the  sudden  Death  and  Burial  of  these  noble  Lovers." 
The  learned  Prelate  likewise  acquaints  us,  that  although  the 
latter  ballad  was  picked  up  on  a  stall,  he  considers  it  to  be  the 
old  song  quoted  in  Fletcher's  comedy  of  "  The  Knight  of  the 
Burning  Pestle."    This  old  play,  as  appears  from  the  dedi- 
cation prefixed  to  the  first  edition  in  4to.,  printed  at  London, 
1613,  was  written  in  1611,  and  was  not  well  received  when 
acted  on  the  stage.    The  reader  will  find  some  further  obser- 
vations on  the  ballad  of  «  Sweet  William  and  Fair  Margaret," 
in  the  notes  on  the  following  song,  No  536. 

Upon  comparing  these  ballads  with  each  other,  viz.  Lord 
Thomas  and  Fair  Ellinor— Fair  Margaret  and  Sweet  Wil- 
liam— Lord  Thomas  and  Fair  Annet— the  present  Editor, 
notwithstanding  the  conjecture  of  the  learned  Prelate,  is  of 
opinion,  both  from  the  difference  in  the  structure  of  the  stan- 
zas, the  language  and  the  incidents  of  the  several  pieces,  that 
they  were  composed  by  different  hands,  although  it  may  be 
difficult  now  to  decide  which  of  the  three  was  first  written. 
It  is  very  possible,  that  the  ballads  themselves  are,  compara- 
tively speaking,  only  modernized  abridgments  of  ancient  me- 
trical romances,  familiar  among  all  the  nations  of  Europe  ma- 
ny ages  ago.    These  romances,  in  their  turn,  likewise  appear 
to  have  been  derived  from  Asiatic  sources,  and  were  gradu- 
ally introduced  into  the  western  world,  by  successive"  min- 
strels, for  the  amusement  of  the  great.    As  a  full  investiga- 
tion of  these  facts,  however,  would  lead  us  into  a  field  by  far 
too  wide  for  the  nature  of  this  work,  we  are  constrained  to 
return  to  the  ballad  now  under  consideration. 

In  the  year  1806,  Mr  Robert  Jamieson  published  a  Col- 
lection of  Popular  Ballads  and  Songs  from  tradition,  Manu- 
scripts, and  scarce  Editions,  among  which  is  a  ballad  entitled 
«  Sweet  Willie  and  Fair  Annie,"  which  he  took  down  from 


470  DXXXV.  LORD  THOMAS  AND  FAIE  ANNET. 

the  recitation  of  Mrs  W.  Arnot  of  Aberbrothick,  who,  it  is 
said,  learned  it  when  a  child  from  an  elderly  maid-servant. 
The  leading  incidents  of  Mr  Jamieson's  ballad  are  very  simi- 
lar to  those  of  the  earlier  edition  of  "  Lord  Thomas  and  Fair 
Annet ;"  but  the  name  of  the  hero  is  changed  from  Lord 
Thomas  to  Sweet  Willie,  who  is  represented  as  "  the  heir  oj 
Duplin  town/'  the  residence  of  the  Earl  of  Kinnoul  in  Pertli- 
shire.  Several  of  the  stanzas  in  Mr  Jamieson's  ballad  are 
likewise  admitted  to  have  been  altered  and  supplied  by  him- 
self. But  neither  these  alterations,  nor  interpolations,  nor  the 
changing  of  the  scene  from  the  borders  to  Perthshire,  appear 
to  have  improved  the  original  ballad.  It  only  remains  to  be 
observed,  that,  in  the  Scots  Museum,  the  ballad  of  "  Lord 
Thomas  and  Fair  Annet"  is  adapted  to  the  tune  called  "  The 
Old  Bard,"  preserved  in  Oswald's  Caledonian  Pocket  Com- 
panion, book  xii. 

DXXXVI. 
WILLIAM  AND  MARGARET. 

This  excellent  ballad,  beginning  "  sTwas  at  the  silent  so- 
lemn hour,"  was  written,  in  1723,  by  David  Mallet,  Esq.  a 
native  of  Edinburgh,  editor  of  Lord  Bolingbroke's  Works,  and 
author  of  several  popular  poems  and  dramatic  works.  It  ap- 
peared in  several  of  the  newspapers  a  short  time  after  it  was 
written,  as  well  as  in  various  periodical  publications.  Ram- 
say printed  it  in  his  Tea-Table  Miscellany,  with  the  signa- 
ture D.  M.  the  initials  of  the  author,  in  1724  ;  and  William 
Thomson,  who  erroneously  conceived  it  to  be  very  old,  copied 
it  into  his  Orpheus  Caledonius,  where  it  is  adapted  to  the 
well-known  tune  of  Chevy  Chace.  Mallet  afterwards  re- 
touched and  improved  the  ballad.  The  reader  will  easily 
discover  the  improvements  which  the  author  made  on  this  fine 
poem,  upon  comparing  the  copy  in  the  Museum  with  that 
in  Ramsay's  Tea-Table  Miscellany,  or  any  of  the  early  edi- 
tions. 

Mallet,  in  a  note  prefixed  to  the  ballad  printed  in  the  edi- 
tion of  his  Poems,  3  vols  8vo.  London,  1759,  informs  us,  that 


DXXXVI.  WILLIAM  AND  MARGARET, 


471 


ff  in  a  comedy  of  Fletcher,  called  Tlie  Knight  of  the  Burn- 
ing  Pestle,  old  Merrythought  enters  repeating  the  follow- 
ing verses : 

u  When  it  was  grown  to  dark  midnight, 
And  all  were  fast  asleep, 
In  came  Margaret's  grimly  ghost, 
And  stood  at  William's  feet. 

"  This  (he  continues)  was  probably  the  beginning  of  some 
ballad  commonly  known  at  the  time  when  that  author  wrote 
(1611)  ;  and  it  is  all  of  it,  I  believe,  that  is  any  where  to  be 
met  with.  These  lines,  naked  of  ornament,  and  simple  as  they 
are,  struck  my  fancy ;  and,  bringing  fresh  into  my  mind  an 
unhappy  adventure  much  talked  of  formerly,  gave  birth  to 
the  following  poem,  which  was  written  many  years  ago." 

The  unhappy  adventure,  here  alluded  to,  was  a  circum- 
stance that  occurred  in  real  life.  A  young  lady,  whose  hand 
had  been  scornfully  rejected  by  her  infamous  seducer,  when 
in  a  weak  state  of  health,  fell,  in  consequence,  into  a  fever ; 
"  and,  in  a  few  days  after,  (says  Mallet,)  I  saw  her  and  her 
child  laid  together  in  one  grave."  See  the  Plain  Dealer,  No 
36  and  46 — a  periodical  paper,  published  by  Mr  Aaron  Hill 
in  1724,  and  afterwards  reprinted  in  2  vols  8vo. 

Thus  far  concerning  the  origin  of  Mallet  s  fine  poem,  which 
Bishop  Percy  pronounces  to  be  "  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
ballads  in  our  own  or  any  language Mr  Ritson  likewise 
observes,  that  "  we  have  many  songs  equal  no  doubt  to  the 
best  of  those  written  by  Hamilton  of  Bangour,  or  Mr  Thom- 
son ;  though  it  may  be  questioned' whether  any  English  writ- 
er has  produced  so  fine  a  ballad  as  William  and  Margaret,  or 
such  a  beautiful  pastoral  as  Tweedside."  Historical  Essay 
on  Scottish  Song,  p.  78. 

Mr  Mallet  was  mistaken  in  supposing  the  old  ballad,  quot- 
ed by  Fletcher  in  1611,  to  be  lost.  It  is  preserved  in  the 
Collections  of  Bishop  Percy  and  Mr  Herd.  A  more  faith- 
ful copy,  however,  will  be  found  in  Ritson's  Ancient  English 

2  L 


4*72  DXXXVL  WILLIAM  AND  MARGARET. 

Ballads  ;  for  the  worthy  Prelate  has  used  some  freedom  with 

a  few  of  the  verses. 

In  the  Museum,  the  ballad  of  William  and  Margaret,  by 
Mr  Mallet,  is  adapted  to  a  beautiful  slow  melody,  which 
was  composed  by  the  late  Mr  Stephen  Clarke  of  Edinburgh, 
organist. 

DXXXVII. 
WHAT  AILS  THE  LASSES  AT  ME  ? 
This  humorous  song,  in  the  broad  Buchan  dialect,  begin- 
ning "  I  am  a  young  bachelor,  winsome,"  was  written  by 
Alexander  Ross,  author  of  the  songs  called  "  A  Rock  and  a 
wee  pickle  Tow,"  "  The  Bridal  o't,"  &c.  See  the  Notes  on 
Songs  No  269  and  439  of  the  Museum.  In  that  author's 
works,  printed  at  Aberdeen  in  1768,  the  song  of  "  What 
ails  the  Lasses  at  me,"  and  "  Jean  Gradan's  answer," 
are  directed  to  be  sung  to  the  tune  of  "  An  the  Kirk 
wad  let  me  be but  as  this  air  was  inserted  in  the  first 
volume  of  the  Museum,  (vide  Song  No  58,)  entitled  "  Fye 
let  us  a'  to  the  Wedding,"  Mr  Johnson  made  choice  of 
another  lively  Scots  air,  which  answers  the  words  extremely 
well. 

dxxxviii 
THE  SUN  IN  THE  WEST. 
This  pathetic  sonnet  is  another  production  of  Mr  Richard 
Gall-     The  beautiful  air  to  which  the  words  are  adapted,  is 
supposed  to  be  of  Gaelic  origin. 

dxxxix. 

SCROGGAM. 

This  humorous  and  eccentric  song,  beginning  "  There 
was  a  wife  wonn'd  in  Cockpen,"  was  written  by  Burns  for 
the  Museum.  There  is  another,  and  a  very  old  song,  to  the 
same  air,  but  it  is  quite  inadmissible. 

Cockpen  is  the  name  of  a  parish  in  the  county  of  Edin- 
burgh, of  which  the  Earl  of  Dalhousie  is  patron- 


473 


DXL. 

O,  TELL  ME,  MY  BONNY  YOUNG  LASSIE. 

This  fine  pastoral  dialogue  was  written  by  Hector  Mac- 
neill,  Esq.  author  of  several  songs  in  the  Museum.  Mr 
Macneill  informed  the  present  Editor,  that  he  picked  up  the 
air,  to  which  his  verses  are  united  in  the  Museum,  during  a 
trip  to  Argyleshire,  and  being  very  fond  of  the  tune,  he 
wrote  the  words  for  it  con  amore. 

The  late  Mr  Graham  of  Gartmore  wrote  a  song,  which  has 
a  similar  burden  with  that  of  Mr  Macneill's.  It  was  print- 
ed in  Mr  Scott's  Minstrelsy  of  the  Border,  under  an  idea 
that  it  was  as  old  as  the  reign  of  Charles  I.  The  chorus 
runs — 

Then  tell  me  how  to  woo  thee,  love  ! 
O  tell  me  how  to  woo  thee ! 
For  thy  dear  sake  nae  care  I'll  take, 
Tho'  ne'er  another  trow  me. 

But  the  two  songs,  in  other  respects,  have  no  similarity, 
and  the  respective  measures  of  the  stanzas  require  them  to  be 
adapted  to  very  different  tunes. 

DXLI. 

O,  MARY,  TURN  AW  A. 

This  song  was  written  by  the  late  Mr  R.  Gall.  His 
verses  are  adapted  to  the  beautiful  old  air  of  "  My  Dearie, 
an  thou  die.'" 

The  second  song,  to  the  same  tune,  beginning  "  What 
ails  this  heart  of  mine,"  is  the  production  of  the  late  Miss 
Blamire  of  Carlisle.    Both  of  these  songs  are  excellent. 

DXLII. 
O,  GUDE  ALE  COMES. 
This  humorous  drinking  song,  with  the  exception  of  the 
chorus,  which  is  old,  was  written  by  Burns.    It  is  adapted 
to  the  tune,  called  «  The  Bottom  of  the  Punch-bowl,"  which 
appears  in  Oswald's  First  Collection,  and  in  many  others, 


DXLIII. 
ROBIN  SHURE  IN  HAIRST. 

The  tune  and  title  of  this  song  are  ancient,  but  the  rest  is 
by  Burns.  In  Oswald's  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion, 
book  fifth,  page  11th,  the  air,  with  variations,  is  inserted 
under  the  title  of  «  Robin  shear'd  in  Her'st,"  but  the  old 
words  of  the  song  are  probably  now  lost. 

The  tune,  in  some  modern  collections,  is  called  "  Bobbing 
John,"  but  erroneously,  for  that  is  the  name  of  a  very  old 
English  air,  printed  in  Playford's  6  Dancing  Master,'  in  the 
time  of  §,  or  six  quavers  in  the  bar,  so  far  back  as  1657,  and  in 
all  the  subsequent  editions  of  that  work.  It  is  quite  different 
from  the  Scottish  air.  Mr  Robert  Jamieson  of  Edinburgh, 
however,  in  his  Popular  Ballads  and  Songs,  printed  in  1806, 
has  written  a  very  humorous  song  to  the  tune,  under  its  mo- 
dern title.    It  follows : 

BOBBING  JOHN. 

Hey,  for  Bobbing  John, 
Kittle  up  the  chanter ! 
Bang  up  a  strathspey 
To  fling  wi'  John  the  ranter. 
Johnnie's  stout  an*  bald, 
Ne'er  could  thole  a  banter, 
Bien  in  byre  an'  fald, 
An',  lassies,  he's  a  wanter. 

Back  as  braid's  a  door ; 
Bow-hough'd,  like  a  felly ; 
Thick  about  the  brands, 
And  o'er  the  breast  an'  belly. 
Hey,  for  Bobbing  John  ! 
Kittle  up  the  chanter ! 
Queans  are  a'  gane  gyte 
To  fling  wi*  John  the  Ranter. 

Bonny 's  his  black  ee, 
Blinkin',  blythe,  an'  vogie, 
Wi'  lassie  on  his  knee, 
In  his  nieve  a  cogie ; 
Syne  the  lad  will  kiss, 
Sweetly  kiss  and  cuddle ; 
Cald  wad  be  the  heart 
That  cou'd  wi'  Johnnie  widdle. 


DXLIII.— ROBIN  SllUItE  IN  HAIRST, 


475 


Sonse  fa'  Bobbing  John  ; 
Want  and  wae  gae  by  him  ; 
There's  in  town  or  land 
Nae  chiel  doesna  envy  him. 
Flingin  to  the  pipe, 
Bobbin  to  the  fiddle, 
Knief  was  ilka  lass 
That  could  wi'  Johnnie  meddle. 

DXLIV. 
MAGGIE  LAUDER. 

This  comic  ballad,  beginning  "  Wha  wadna  be  in  love 
wi'  bonny  Maggie  Lawder  ?"  was  written  by  Francis  SempJe 
of  Beltrees,  Esq.  in  the  county  of  Renfrew,  about  the  year 
1642.  This  fact  is  stated  on  the  joint  authorities  of  two  of 
his  descendants,  viz.  the  late  Mr  Semple  of  Beltrees,  who 
died  in  1789,  and  his  relation,  the  late  Mr  Semple  of  Edin- 
burgh. 

In  the  fifth  number  of  the  "  Paisley  Repository,"  the 
editor  of  that  work  has  communicated  the  following  addi- 
tional information  respecting  the  author  of  this  favourite  song: 

"  Anecdote  of  Francis  Semple  of  Beltrees,  author  of 
The  Banishment  of  Poverty — some  Epitaphs  in  Penny- 
cooke's  Collection  of  Poetical  Pieces,  and  the  songs  of  4  She 
rose  and  loot  me  in,'  and  k  Maggie  Lawder.' " 

"  When  Cromwell's  forces  were  garrisoned  in  Glasgow, 
the  city  was  put  under  severe  martial  law,  which,  among 
other  enactments,  ordained  c  That  every  person  or  persons 
coming  into  the  city  must  send  a  particular  account  of  them- 
selves, and  whatever  they  may  bring  with  them,  unto  the 
commander  of  the  forces  in  that  place,  under  the  penalty  of 
imprisonment  and  confiscation,  both  of  the  offender's  goods 
and  whatever  chattels  are  in  the  house  or  houses  wherein  the 
offender  or  offenders  may  be  lodged/  &c. 

"  Francis  Semple  and  his  lady  set  out  on  a  journey  to 
Glasgow,  accompanied  by  a  man-servant,  some  time  in  1651, 
or  a  little  after  that,  to  visit  his  aunt,  an  old  maiden  lady,  his 
father's  sister,  who  had  a  jointure  of  him,  which  he  paid  by 
half-yearly  instalments. 


476 


DXLIV.  MAGGIE  LAUDER. 


44  When  he  came  to  his  aunt's  house,  which  was  on  the 
High-street,  at  the  bell  of  the  brae,  now  known  by  the  name 
of  4  The  Duke  of  Montrose's  Lodging,  or  Barrell's  Ha','  his 
aunt  told  him,  that  she  must  send  an  account  of  his  arrival 
to  the  captain  of  Cromwell's  forces,  otherwise  the  soldiers 
would  come  and  poind  her  moveables.  Francis  replied, 
6  Never  you  mind  that ;  let  them  come,  and  I'll  speak  to 
them.'  «  Na,  na,'  quoth  his  aunt,  4  I  -maun  send  an  account 
o'  your  coming  here.' — 4  Gie  me  a  bit  of  paper,'  says  Francis, 
4  and  I'll  write  it  mysel.'  Then  taking  the  pen,  he  wrote  as 
follows : 

Glasgow,     —  — 

Lo  doon  near  by  the  City  temple, 
There  is  ane  lodg'd  wi'  auntie  Semple, 
Francis  Semple  of  Beltrees, 
His  consort  also,  if  you  please  ; 
There's  twa  o's  horse,  and  ane  o's  men, 
That's  quarter'd  down  wi'  Allan  Glen. 
Thir  lines  I  send  to  you,  for  fear 
O*  poindin  of  auld  auntie's  gear, 
Whilk  never  ane  before  durst  stear, 
It  stinks  for  staleness  I  dare  swear. 

(Signed)  Francis  Semple. 

Directed  4  To  the  commander  of  the  guard  in  Glasgow.' " 
When  the  captain  received  the  letter,  he  could  not  un- 
derstand it,  on  account  of  its  being  written  in  the  Scottish 
dialect.  He  considered  it  as  an  insult  put  upon  him,  and,  like 
a  man  beside  himself  with  rage,  he  exclaimed,  4  If  I  had  the 
scoundrel  who  has  had  the  audacity  to  send  me  such  an  in- 
sulting, infamous,  and  impudent  libel,  I  would  make  the  vil- 
lanous  rascal  suffer  for  his  temerity.'  He  then  ordered  a 
party  of  his  men  to  go  and  apprehend  a  Francis  Semple,  who 
was  lodged  with  a  woman  of  the  name  of  Semple,  near  the 
High  Church,  and  carry  him  to  the  provost.  Mr  Semple 
was  accordingly  brought  before  the  provost,  and  his  accuser 
appeared  with  the  insulting,  infamous,  and  impudent 
libel  against  him.  It  was  read ;  but  it  "was  impossible 
for  the  provost  to  retain  his  gravity  during  the  perusal ;  nay, 


DXLIV.  MAGGIE  LAUDElt.  477 

the  captain  himself,  after  hearing  an  English  translation  of 
the  epistle,  could  not  resist  joining  in  the  laugh.  From  that 
moment  he  and  Beltrees  became  intimate  friends,  and  he 
often  declared,  that  he  considered  Semple  to  be  one  of  the 
cleverest  gentlemen  in  Scotland.  On  no  account  would  the 
captain  part  with  Beltrees  during  his  residence  in  Glasgow. 
The  time.,  therefore,  that  Francis  intended  to  have  passed 
with  the  old  lady  his  aunt,  was  humorously  spent  with  the 
captain  and  the  other  officers  of  Cromwell's  forces,  who  kept 
him  in  Glasgow  two  weeks  longer  than  he  otherwise  would 
have  staid. 

It  seems  probable,  that  these  officers  of  Cromwell  had  in- 
troduced two  of  Semple's  songs  into  England  before  the  pe- 
riod of  the  Restoration ;  for  they  were  both  printed,  and  well 
known  in  England,  in  the  reign  of  Charles  II.  the  words  and 
music  being  engraven  by  Thomas  Cross.  Henry  Playford 
afterwards  introduced  the  song  of  "  She  rose  and  let  me  in," 
in  his  "  Wit  and  Mirth,1'  vol.  i.  printed  at  London  in  1698. 
Gay  introduced  the  air  of  Maggie  Lauder  in  his  musical 
opera  of  Achilles,  printed  in  1733.  The  same  air  had  pre- 
viously been  used  for  a  song,  called  Sally  s  New  Answer,  set  to 
the  time  qfMogey  Lauther,  a  sort  of  parody  on  Carey's  Sally 
in  our  Alley,  as  well  as  for  a  song  in  the  Quaker's  Opera, 
written  by  Thomas  Walker,  and  acted  at  Lee  and  Harper's 
Booth  in  Bartholomew  Fair,  anno  1728. 

The  following  continuation  of  the  ballad,  by  a  modern 
hand,  appeared  in  the  Pocket  Encyclopaedia  of  Songs,  printed 
at  Glasgow,  2  vols  12mo,  1816.  It  possesses  considerable 
merit. 

The  can  tie  spring  scarce  rear'd  her  head, 

And  winter  yet  did  bland  her, 

When  the  Ranter  cam  to  Anster  fair, 

And  spier'd  for  Maggy  Lauder  ; 

A  snug  wee  house  in  the  East  Green, 

Its  shelter  kindly  lent  her  ; 

Wi'  cantie  ingle,  clean  hearth-stane, 

Meg  welcom'd  Rob  the  Ranter! 


478 


DXLIV.— MAGGIE  LAUDER 


Then  Rob  made  bonnie  Meg  his  bride, 

And  to  the  kirk  he  ranted  ; 

He  play'd  the  auld  "  East  nook  o'  Fife," 

And  merry  Maggie  vaunted, 

That  Hub  himsel'  ne'er  play'd  a  spring, 

Nor  blew  sae  weel  his  chanter, 

For  he  made  Anster  town  to  ring ; 

And  wha's  like  Rob  the  Ranter  ! 

For  a'  the  talk  and  loud  reports 

That  ever  gaed  against  her, 

Meg  proves  a  true  and  faithful'  wife, 

As  ever  was  in  Anster ; 

And  since  the  marriage  knot  was  tied, 

Rob  says  he  coudna  want  her  ; 

For  he  loes  Maggy  as  his  life, 

And  Meg  loes  Rob  the  Ranter. 

Anstruther,  easter  and  wester,  is  the  name  of  two  adjacent 
royal  burghs  in  the  county  of  Fife.  The  scene  of  the  ballad, 
however,  is  laid  in  easter  Anstruther,  where  a  fair  is  held  on 
the  first  Tuesday  after  the  11th  of  April,  another  on  the  5th 
day  of  July,  and  a  third  on  the  12th  day  of  November  an- 
nually. This  burgh  has  lately  acquired  an  additional  cele- 
brity, from  the  excellent  poem  of  Anster  Fair,  by  Mr  Wil- 
liam Tennant,  (late  schoolmaster  of  Lasswade,  now  Professor 
in  the  Institution  at  Dollar.) 

The  learned  editor  of  the  Reliques  of  Ancient  English 
Poetry  (Bishop  Percy)  says,  it  is  a  received  tradition  in  Scot- 
land, that,  at  the  time  of  the  Reformation,  Maggie  Lawder 
was  one  of  those  ridiculous  songs  composed  to  be  sung  by  the 
rabble  to  the  tune  of  a  favourite  hymn  in  the  Latin  service, 
and  that  the  original  music  of  all  these  burlesque  sonnets  was 
very  fine.  The  absurdity  of  this  notion  has  already  been 
detected  in  a  former  part  of  this  work. — Vide  Notes  on  Song 
No  260  of  the  Museum. 

The  service-book  used  in  the  cathedral  of  Dunkeld  was, 
till  lately,  supposed  to  be  the  only  work  of  this  kind  that  had 
escaped  the  flames  at  the  period  of  the  Reformation  in  Scot- 
land ;  but  this  conjecture  was  incorrect.  The  service-book 
used  in  the  abbey  of  Scone  has  likewise  been  discovered,  and 


DXLIV.  MAGGIE  LAUDER.  47Q 

is  now  deposited  in  the  library  of  the  Faculty  of  Advocates,, 
Edinburgh.  It  is  a  very  large  folio  volume,  and  very  neatly 
written.  From  a  Latin  docquet  inserted  in  the  work,*  it  ap- 
pears to  have  been  compiled  by  Mr  Robert  Carver,  a  canon 
of  Scone,  in  the  twenty-second  year  of  his  age,  and  in  the 
sixth  year  after  his  initiation  into  holy  orders.  The  Editor 
has  carefully  examined  this  book  from  beginning  to  end,  and 
can  safely  aver,  that  there  is  not  one  air  that  has  the  smallest 
resemblance  to  Maggy  Lauder^  or  to  any  other  secular  Scots 
tune  in  the  whole  compass  of  the  work.  The  chaunts,  hymns, 
and  antiphones,  are  all,  as  usual,  in  the  Latin  tongue. 

DXLV. 

A  COGIE  OF  ALE  AND  A  PICKLE  AIT-MEAL. 

This  song  was  written  in  1797,  by  Andrew  Sheriffs,  A.  M. 
author  of  the  Scottish  pastoral  comedy  of  "  Jamie  and  Bess," 
printed  at  Edinburgh  in  1790,  and  other  poems.  The  Edi- 
tor was  present  when  Mr  Sheriffs  sung  this  song  on  the  Edin- 
burgh stage,  at  his  own  benefit;  on  which  occasion  the  au- 
thor's pastoral  comedy  above-mentioned  was  performed  by 
some  of  his  friends  who  were  natives  of  Edinburgh.  Mr 
Sheriffs  received  a  classical  education  at  Aberdeen,  and  was 
for  a  considerable  time  one  of  the  editors  of  "  The  Aberdeen 
Chronicle."  In  1798  he  went  to  reside  in  London;  but  the 
writer  of  this  article  has  heard  nothing  of  him  since  that  pe- 
riod. Mr  Sheriffs  had  the  misfortune  to  be  lame  from  his 
infancy. 

The  melody  was  composed  by  the  late  Mr  Robert  Macin- 
tosh, musician  in  Edinburgh.  Mr  Macintosh  afterwards  went 
to  London,  where  he  continued  till  his  death,  in  February 
1807.  He  published  three  Collections  of  Scottish  Reels  and 
Strathspeys,  and  composed  many  of  the  best  of  them  himself. 
He  was  an  excellent  violin  player. 


ComP°?nit  Dominus  Robcrtus  Carver  Canonicus  de  Scona,  Anno  Domini 
1513,  et  cetalis  snce  Anno  22<,  nec  non  ingressus  suae  religionis  anno  6to.  ad  honorcm 
Dei  et  Sancti  Michcelis." 


480 


DXLVI. 

THE  DUMFRIES  VOLUNTEERS. 

This  song,  beginning  "  Does  haughty  Gaul  invasion 
threat  ?"  was  written  by  Burns  in  1795,  and  transmitted  to 
Johnson  for  insertion  in  his  Museum.  The  charming  tune, 
to  which  the  words  are  adapted,  was  composed  by  Mr  Ste- 
phen Clarke,  organist. 

It  was  originally  published  as  a  single  sheet  song,  a  con- 
siderable number  of  which  were  transmitted  to  Mr  Burns,  to 
be  distributed  among  the  Dumfries  Volunteers,  of  which  corps 
he  was  a  member.  Burns,  on  receipt  of  the  pacquet,  wrote  a 
letter  to  Johnson,  which  is  printed  in  his  Reliques,  wherein 
he  says,  "  Thank  you  for  the  copies  of  my  Volunteer  ballad. 
Our  friend  Clarke  has  indeed  done  well !  'tis  chaste  and  beau- 
tiful. I  have  not  met  with  any  thing  that  has  pleased  me  so 
much.  You  know  I  am  no  connoisseur ;  but  that  I  am  an 
amateur,  will  be  allowed  me." 

DXLVII. 
HE'S  DEAR  TO  ME. 

This  sweet  little  pastoral  made  its  appearance  about  the 
year  1796,  as  a  single  sheet  song,  written  by  a  gentleman. 
His  name,  however,  the  Editor  has  not  yet  learnt.  The 
melody  is  very  pretty,  and  appears  to  belong  to  the  ancient 
class  of  Scottish  airs  of  one  simple  strain,  such  as  the  "  Braw 
braw  Lads  of  Gala  Water,1'  to  which  indeed  it  bears  a  strong 
resemblance. 

DXLVIII. 

THE  BLUE  BELLS  OF  SCOTLAND. 
This  song  appears  to  be  a  parody  of  another  written  by 
Mrs  Grant  of  Laggan,  beginning  "  O  wjiere,  tell  me  where, 
is  your  Highland  laddie  gone?"  on  the  Marquis  of  Huntly's 
departure  for  Holland  with  the  British  forces  under  the  com- 
mand of  the  gallant  Sir  Ralph  Abercrombie,  in  1799.  The 
words  are  adapted  to  a  modern  Scottish  air. 


481 


DXLIX. 
COLIN  CLOUT. 

This  fragment  of  a  very  fine  pastoral  ballad,  beginning 
"  Chanticleer  wi'  noisy  whistle,"  was  communicated  by  Mr 
Gall.  The  Editor  recollects  having  seen  the  whole  of  the 
ballad  in  that  gentleman's  hands,  and  perhaps  the  manuscript 
may  yet  be  recovered.  It  well  deserves  to  be  printed.  The 
author  is  anonymous. 

The  words  are  adapted  to  a  fine  melody,  which  was  com- 
posed by  the  late  Mr  Stephen  Clarke. 

DL. 

'TIS  NAE  VERY  LANG  SINSYNE. 

This  humorous  ballad  was  copied  from  Herd's  Collection, 
printed  in  1776,  where  it  is  inserted  under  the  title  of  "  My 
Heart's  my  aim"  It  does  not  appear  in  the  Tea-Table  Mis- 
cellany, and  may  therefore  have  been  composed  subsequently 
to  the  year  1724.    The  author  is  unknown. 

The  words  are  adapted  to  the  tune  of  "  We'll  kick  the 
world  before  us,"  from  Oswald's  Caledonian  Pocket  Compa- 
nion, vol.  xi. 

DLL 

O,  ONCE  I  LOV'D  A  BONNIE  LASS. 
This  song  was  the  earliest  that  Burns  ever  wrote ;  or,  as 
the  bard  terms  it,  the  "  first  time  he  committed  the  sin  of 
rhyme."  It  was  written  in  the  autumn  of  1773.  In  a  letter 
to  Dr  Moore,  dated  2d  August  1787,  Burns  says,  "  You 
know  our  country  custom  of  coupling  a  man  and  a  woman 
together  in  the  labours  of  harvest.  In  my  fifteenth  autumn 
my  partner  was  a  bewitching  creature,  a  year  younger  than 
myself.  My  scarcity  of  English  denies  me  the  power  of 
doing  her  justice  in  that  language  ;  but  you  know  the  Scot- 
tish idiom — she  was  a  bonnie,  sweet,  sonsie  lass.  In  short, 
she  altogether,  unwittingly  to  herself,  initiated  me  in  that 
delicious  passion,  which,  in  spite  of  acid  disappointment,  gin- 
horse  prudence,  and  book-worm  philosophy,  I  hold  to  be  the 
first  of  human  joys,  our  dearest  blessing  here  below  !  How 


482  DLL— 0,  ONCE  I  LOV'D  A  BONNIE  LASS. 

she  caught  the  contagion,  I  cannot  tell :  you  medical  people 
talk  much  of  infection  from  breathing  the  same  air,  the  touch, 
&c. ;  but  I  never  expressly  said  I  loved  her.  Indeed,  I  did 
not  know  myself  why  I  liked  so  much  to  loiter  behind  with 
her,  when  returning  in  the  evening  from  our  labours ;  why 
the  tones  of  her  voice  made  my  heart-strings  thrill  like  an 
Eolian  harp ;  and  particularly,  why  my  pulse  beat  such  a  fu- 
rious rattan,  when  I  looked  and  fingered  over  her  little  hand, 
to  pick  out  the  cruel  nettle  stings  and  thistles.  Among  her 
love-inspiring  qualities,  she  sung  sweetly ;  and  it  was  her  fa- 
vourite reel  (J  am  a  Man  unmarried)  to  which  I  attempted 
giving  an  embodied  vehicle  in  rhyme.  I  was  not  so  presump- 
tuous, as  to  imagine  that  I  could  make  verses  like  printed 
ones,  composed  by  men  who  had  Greek  and  Latin ;  but  my 
girl  sung  a  song,  which  was  said  to  be  composed  by  a  small 
country  laird's  son,  on  one  of  his  father's  maids,  with  whom 
he  was  in  love  !  and  I  saw  no  reason  why  I  might  not  rhyme 
as  well  as  he  ;  for,  excepting  that  he  could  smear  sheep  and 
cast  peats,  his  father  living  in  the  moor-lands,  he  had  no  more 
scholarcraft  than  myself.  Thus  with  me  began  love  and 
poetry,  which  at  times  have  been  my  only,  and,  till  within 
the  last  twelve  months,  my  highest  enjoyment." 

This  song  was  originally  intended  to  have  been  sung  to 
the  old  reel  tune,  called  I  am  a  Man  unmarried,  with  the 
foolish  chorus  of  Tal  lal  de  ral,  $c.  repeated  at  the  end  of 
each  verse.  Burns  afterwards  gave  up  this  idea,  and  had  it 
set  to  the  beautiful  slow  melody  in  the  Museum,  which  he 
picked  up  and  transmitted  to  the  publisher  of  that  work  : 
it  is  said  to  be  very  ancient. 

DL1I. 

WHEN  I  THINK  ON  MY  LAD. 

This  song  was  written  by  Ramsay,  as  a  substitute  for  the 
indelicate  old  Scots  song,  called  "  Jumping  John."  Ramsay 
published  it  in  his  Tea-Table  Miscellany,  under  the  title  of 
"  Her  Daddy  forbad,  her  Minny  forbad;1  in  1724.  But  as  this 
tune,  with  new  words  by  Burns,  had  been  inserted  in  the  second 


DMI.  WHEN  I  THINK  ON  MY  LAD 


483 


volume  of  the  Museum  (vide  Song  No.  138),  Johnson  made 
choice  of  another  air  for  Ramsay's  words,  taken  from  Oswald's 
Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  book7viii.  entitled  Hark,  the 
Cock  crow'd.  Neither  Oswald  nor  Johnson,  however,  seem 
to  have  been  aware  that  this  was  an  English  tune,  composed 
by  Mr  Jeremiah  Clarke  of  London,  organist,  and  published 
by  Henry  Playford,  with  the  original  words,  in  the  first 
volume  of  his  Wit  and  Mirth,  in  1698.  The  English 
song  begins, 

Hark  !  the  cock  crow'd,  'tis  day  all  abroad, 
And  looks  like  a  jolly  fair  morning- ; 
Up  Roger  and  James,  and  drive  out  the  teams ; 
Up  quickly  and  carry  the  corn  in. 

The  old  Scottish  tune  of  Jumping  John,  was  an  early 
favourite  in  England.  In  "  Playford's  Dancing  Master," 
1657,  it  is  printed  with  the  name  of  "  Joan's  Placket,"  the 
title  of  a  parody  upon,  and  equally  indelicate  as  the  old 
northern  words.  In  the  year  1686,  Lord  Wharton  wrote  a 
satirical  song  to  the  same  tune,  beginning  "  Ho !  broder 
Teague,  dost  hear  de  decree,"  which  contributed  in  no  small 
degree  towards  the  great  Revolution  in  1688.  In  this  song, 
his  Lordship  introduced,  as  the  burden  or  chorus,  the  words 
of  distinction  which  had  been  used  by  the  Irish  papists  in 
their  horrid  massacre  of  the  protestants  in  1641,  viz.  Lilli- 
burlero  and  Bullen-a-lah.  It  was  written  on  occasion  of 
James  II.  having  nominated  General  Talbot,  newly  created 
Earl  of  Tyrconnel,  to  the  lieutenancy  of  Ireland.  Talbot 
was  a  furious  papist,  and  had  recommended  himself  to  his 
bigotted  master  by  his  arbitrary  treatment  of  the  protestants 
in  the  preceding  year,  when  only  lieutenant-general,  and 
whose  subsequent  conduct  fully  justified  his  expectations  and 
their  fears.  The  violences  of  his  administration  may  be  seen 
in  any  of  the  histories  of  these  times.  Bishop  Burnet,  allud- 
ing to  the  ballad  which  had  been  written  by  Wharton,  says, 
that  it  "  made  an  impression  on  the  (king's)  army  that  can- 
not be  imagined  by  those  that  saw  it  not.    The  whole  army, 


484 


DLII.— •  WHEN  I  THINK  ON  MY  LAD. 


and  at  last  the  people  both  in  the  city  and  country,  were 
singing  it  perpetually.  And  perhaps  never  had  so  slight  a 
thing  so  great  an  effect."  Ritson,  in  alluding  to  the  same 
ballad  observes,  "  what  an  astonishing  effect  these  vulgar 
and  despicable  rhapsodies  had  upon  the  temper  of  the  times  ; 
we  may,  in  some  measure,  conjecture  from  the  brags  of  that 
unprincipled  character,  Lord  (afterwards  Marquis  of)  Whar- 
ton, who  was  wont  to  boast,  that  by  the  most  foolish  of  them 
all  (Lilliburlero)  he  had  rhymed  the  king  out  of  his  domi- 
nions. Historical  Essay  on  National  Song,  p.  62.  See  also 
Notes  on  Song  No.  138  of  the  Museum.  This  old  Scots  tune 
of  J umping  Joan,  having  acquired  the  new  title  of  Lilliburlero 
from  Wharton's  ballad,  has  erroneously  been,  by  many,  sup- 
posed to  be  an  Irish  air. 

dliii. 

THE  FIENT  A  CRUM  OF  THE  SHE  FAWS. 

This  ancient  song,  beginning  Return  homeward  my 
heart  again,  was  recovered  by  Ramsay,  and  printed  in  his 
Tea-Table  Miscellany  in  1724,  with  the  letter  Z,  to  denote  its 
antiquity.  The  tune  to  which  the  verses  are  adapted  is  like- 
wise known  by  the  name  of  The  Spinning  Wheel,  but  it  is 
essentially  different  from  the  air  called  "  The  Spinning 
Wheel,"  in  Oswald's  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  book  ix. 
The  author  and  composer  are  unknown. 

DLIV. 

MY  LADY'S  GOWN  THERE'S  GAIRS  UPON'T. 
This  song: was  written  for  the  Museum  by  Burns,  in  178S. 
The  words  are  adapted  to  a  well-known  strathspey,  or  reel 
tune,  composed  by  the  late  Mr  James  Gregg,  an  eminent 
teacher  of  dancing  in  Ayrshire.  Gregg  composed  the  strath- 
spey, called  "  Gregg's  Pipes,1'  and  many  other  excellent 
dancing  tunes.  Pie  had  a  taste  for  painting,  mechanics,  and 
natural  history  ;  made  and  improved  telescopes ;  he  was  also 
.skilled  in  the  mathematics,  and  was  frequently  employed  as  a 
land-surveyor.  Pie  taught  dancing,  until,  by  old  age,  he 
could  scarcely  sec  his  pupils,  or  hear  the  tones  of  his  own 

1 


dliv — my  lady's  gown  there's  gairs  upon't.  485 

violin.  He  died,  regretted  by  all  who  knew  him,  in  Novem- 
ber 1817,  at  a  very  advanced  age. 

Johnson  long  hesitated  to  admit  this  song  into  his  Museum  ; 
but,  being  blamed  for  such  fastidiousness,  he  at  length  gave 
it  a  place  in  that  work. 

DLV. 
MAY  MORNING. 
This  little  song,  beginning  "  The  nymphs  and  shepherds 
are  met  on  the  green,"  was  communicated  to  Johnson  by  an 
anonymous  hand.    It  is  adapted  to  an  old  strathspey  tune, 
which  is  very  pretty. 

DLVI. 

DINNA  THINE,  BONNIE  LASSIE,  I'M  GAUN  TO  LEAVE  THEE. 

Hector  Macneill,  Esq.,  informed  the  Editor  that  he 
wrote  the  whole  of  this  song  except  the  last  verse,  which  the 
late  Mr  John  Hamilton,  music-seller  in  Edinburgh,  took  the 
liberty  to  add  to  it,  and  to  publish  as  a  sheet  song.  «  It  was 
on  this  account,  (Mr  Macneill  added,)  that  I  did  not  include 
this  song  in  collecting  my  poetical  works  for  the  uniform 
edition  in  two  volumes,  which  has  been  given  to  the  public." 
For  a  similar  reason  he  omitted  another  song,  likewise  writ- 
ten by  him,  beginning  My  love's  in  Germany,  send  him 
hame,  send  him  hame. 

The  song  of  Dinna  think  Bonnie  Lassie,  is  adapted  to  a 
dancing  tune,  called  Clunie^s  Reel,  taken  from  Cumming 
of  Granton's  Reels  and  Strathspeys. 

DLVII. 

O,  GIN  I  WERE  FAIRLY  SHOT  O'  HER  ! 
This  old  song  received  some  additions  and  corrections 
from  the  pen  of  Mr  John  Anderson,  engraver  of  music  in 
Edinburgh,  who  served  his  apprenticeship  with  Johnson, 
the  publisher.  The  air,  under  the  title  of  Fairlle  Shot  of 
Her,  appears  in  Mrs  Crockafs  Manuscript  Music-book,  so 
that  the  tune  is  very  old.  It  is  also  preserved  in  Oswald's 
Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  and  various  other  collections. 
This  tune  was  selected  by  Mr  O'Keefe  for  one  of  his  songs 


486       DI.VTI. — 0,  GIN  I  WERE  FAIRLY  SHOT  cT  HER  I 

for  «  Shelty"  in  the  Highland  Reel,  beginning,  "  Boys, 
when  I  play,  cry  0  Crimini,,,  acted  at  Covent  Garden  in 
1788. 

DLVIII. 

HEY!  MY  KITTEN,  MY  KITTEN. 

This  humorous  nursery  song  was  written,  about  the  be- 
ginning of  the  last  century,  by  the  celebrated  Dean  Swift. 
The  words  are  adapted  to  the  old  Scottish  air,  called 
Whip  Her  below  the  Couring,  which  is  inserted  in  the 
Crockat  Manuscript,  and  was  printed  in  The  Dancing 
Master,  by  Playford,  under  the  name  of  Yellow  Stock- 
ings,  in  1657.  This  tune  has  been  a  great  favourite,  time 
out  of  mind,  in  both  kingdoms.  The  old  Scots  song  is  in- 
admissible, for  an  obvious  reason;  but  there  are  several 
humorous  English  ones  to  the  same  tune,  such  as  "  Madam 
Fig's  Gala,"  &c,  of  considerable  merit. 

DLIX. 

SWEETEST  MAY,  LET  LOVE  INSPIRE  THEE. 

This  petit  morceau,  words  and  music,  was  communicated 
by  Burns.    The  tune  is  very  simple  and  sweet,  yet  the  cri- 
tical reader  will  easily  discover  that  Burns,  in  this  instance, 
has  parodied  the  first  verse  of  the  old  song  of  There's  my 
Thumb  Til  ne'er  beguile  Thee.    It  begins— 

My  sweetest  May,*  let  love  incline  thee, 
T'  accept  a  heart  which  he  designs  thee ; 
And  as  your  constant  slave  regard  it, 
Syne  for  its  faithfulness  reward  it. 
'Tis  proof  a-shot  to  birth  or  money, 
But  yields  to  what  is  sweet  and  bonny. 

DLX. 

ARGYLE  IS  MY  NAME. 

This  ballad  is  universally  attributed  to  John  Campbell,  the 
renowned  Duke  of  Argyle  and  Greenwich,  whose  uncorrupt- 
ed  patriotism  and  military  talents,  justly  entitled  him  to  be 
ranked  among  the  greatest  benefactors  of  his  country.  He 


*  May,  i.  e.  Maul. 

6 


DLX.  ARGYLE  IS  MY  NAME. 


487 


died  on  the  4th  of  October  1743,  in  the  sixty-third  year  of  his 
age. 

Old  David  Herd  published  a  copy  of  this  ballad  in  his 
Ancient  and  Modern  Scottish  Songs  in  1776,  under  the  title 
of  Bannocks  o'  Barley  Meal,  with  two  additional  stanzas ; 
but  these  were  rejected  in  the  Museum,  on  account  of  their 
being  both  spurious  and  indelicate.  The  tune  is  of  Gaelic 
origin. 

Alexander  Boswell  of  Auchinleck,  Esq.,  M.P.,  altered  and 
abridged  this  old  ballad  for  Mr  Thomson's  Collection,  vol. 
m\,  published  in  1801. 

DLXI. 

AN  I'LL  AWA  TO  BONNY  TWEEDSIDE. 

This  song  was  written  by  Allan  Ramsay,  and  published 
in  his  Tea-Table  Miscellany,  A.D.  1726.  He  directs  it  to 
be  sung  to  the  tune  of  We'll  a'  to  Kelso  go.  In  the  Museum, 
the  words  have  accordingly  been  adapted  to  this  lively  old 
air,  which  is  also  preserved  in  Oswald's  Caledonian  Pocket 
Companion,  book  vi.  p.  11.  The  old  song  of  We'll  d  to 
Kelso  go,  is  supposed  to  be  lost. 

DLXII. 

GENTLY  BLAW,  YE  EASTERN  BREEZES. 
This  song  was  written  by  Mr  John  Anderson,  engraver  of 
music  in  Edinburgh .  It  is  adapted  to  a  very  ancient  and 
beautiful  air,  entitled  O  gin  my  Lorn  were  but  a  Rose,  from 
the  first  line  of  an  old  but  rather  indelicate  song,  still  well 
known.  Two  verses  of  the  old  song  were  retouched  by  a 
modern  hand,  and  printed  in  Herd's  Collection,  in  1776. — 
The  reader  will  find  them  in  the  sixth  volume  of  the  Mu- 
seum (vide  Song  594)  ;  but  they  are  there  adapted  to  a  dif- 
ferent tune,  taken  from  Gow's  Collection,  called  Lord  Bal- 
gmies  Delight. 

DLXIII. 

IN  YON  GARDEN  FINE  AND  GAY. 

Mr  Anderson,  author  of  the  last  *ong,  informed  the  Edi~ 

2  M 


488  DLXIII.— IN  YON  GARDEN  FINE  AND  GAY. 

tor,  that  the  words  and  music  of  this  were  taken  down  from 
the  singing  of  Mr  Charles  Johnson,  father  of  Mr  James 
Johnson,  the  publisher  of  the  Museum.  The  song  was  ac- 
quired by  old  Johnson  in  his  infancy,  and  he  was  then  in- 
formed that  it  was  very  ancient.  From  the  simplicity  of  the 
air,  which  consists  of  one  strain,  and  the  structure  of  the 
words,  there  can  be  no  doubt  of  the  correctness  of  the  old 
man's  information. 

DLXIV. 
THE  POOR  PEDLAR. 

This  humorous  ballad,  beginning  "  There  was  a  noble 
lady  so  fair,"  has  been  a  favourite  among  the  peasantry  of 
Scotland  time  out  of  mind.  But  the  strain  of  double  mean- 
ing, which  runs  through  many  of  the  verses,  must  ever  prove 
a  bar  to  its  reception  in  the  more  polished  circles  of  modern 
society. 

DLXV. 

YOU  ASK  ME,  CHARMING  FAIR. 

This  beautiful  song  was  written  by  William  Hamilton  of 
Bangour,  Esq.  The  composer  of  the  charming  melody,  to 
which  the  verses  are  united,  has  hitherto  escaped  the  research- 
es of  the  Editor. 

DLXVI. 

O,  KEN  YE  WHAT  MEG  O'  THE  MILL  HAS  GOTTEN  ? 

This  humorous  old  song  was  retouched  by  Burns  in  1788, 
and  sent  to  the  publisher  of  the  Museum,  with  directions  to 
unite  it  to  the  old  air  called  Jackey  Hume's  Lament.  This 
was  accordingly  done. 

Mr  Burns,  about  five  years  thereafter,  made  several  al- 
terations on  the  first  copy  of  his  song,  which  he  transmitted 
to  Mr  George  Thomson,  with  the  following  introduction : 
"  Do  you  know  a  fine  air  called  Jackie  Hume^s  Lament  ? 
I  have  a  song  of  considerable  merit  to  that  air.  I'll  enclose 
you  both  the  song  and  tune,  as  I  had  them  ready  to  send  to 
Johnson's  Museum-" 


DLXVI.  O,  KEN  YE  WHAT  MEG  O'  THE  MILL,  &C.  489 

It  had  escaped  the  bard's  recollection,  that  the  original 
draught  of  the  song,  as  well  as  the  air,  had  been  sent  to  the 
publisher  of  the  Museum  long  before  this  period,  and  that 
he  had  altered  his  intention  of  having  the  second  edition  of 
the  song  set  to  the  air  of  Jackie  Hume's  Lament;  for,  in  Dr 
Currie's  edition  of  Burns1  Works,  we  find  that  it  is  directed  to 
be  sung  to  the  air  of  O  bonnie  Lass  will  ye  lie  in  a  Barrack, 
The  song,  with  Burns'  last  alterations,  is  annexed  for  the 
reader's  perusal. 

MEG  0'  THE  MILL. 
Air—"  O,  bonnie  Lass  will  ye  lie  in  a  Barrack." 
0  ken  ye  what  Meg  o'  the  mill  has  gotten, 
An'  ken  ye  what  Meg  o'  the  mill  has  gotten  ? 
She  has  gotten  a  coof  wi'  a  claut  o'  siller, 
And  broken  the  heart  o5  the  barley  miller. 

The  miller  was  strappin,  the  miller  was  ruddy, 
A  heart  like  a  lord,  and  a  hue  like  a  lady ; 
The  laird  was  a  widdiefu'  bleerit  knurl ; 
She's  left  the  guid  fallow  and  ta'en  the  churl. 

The  miller  he  hecht  her  a  heart  leal  and  loving ; 
The  laird  did  address  her  wi'  matter  mair  moving, 
A  fine  pacing  horse,  wi'  a  clear-chained  bridle, 
A  whip  by  her  side,  and  a  bonnie  side-saddle. 

O  wae  on  the  siller,  it  is  sae  prevailing ! 
And  wae  on  the  love  that  is  fixed  on  a  mailen  ! 
A  tocher's  nae  word  in  a  true  lover's  parle, 
But,  gie  me  my  love,  and  a  fig  for  the  warf ! 

DLXVII. 

HOW  SWEET  IS  THE  SCENE  AT  THE  DAWNING  OF  MORNING, 
This  fine  song  is  another  of  the  productions  of  the  late 
Mr  Richard  Gall.  The  original  manuscript  is  in  the  hands 
of  the  Editor.  The  words  are  adapted  to  the  fine  old  air, 
called  "  The  Humours  o'  Glen." 

DLXVIII. 

SURE  MY  JEAN  IS  BEAUTY'S  BLOSSOM. 
This  song  was  also  written  by  Mr  Gall.    The  original 
manuscript  of  it  is  likewise  in  the  possession  of  the  Editor. 
The  words  are  adapted  to  a  very  pretty  modern  air,  which 
was  communicated  by  Mr  Gall  himself. 


490 


DLXIX. 

HOW  SWEET  THIS  LONE  VALE. 
This  song  was  written  by  the  Honourable  Andrew  Erskine, 
brother  of  Thomas  late  Earl  of  Kellie,  an  eminent  violin 
performer  and  musical  amateur.  Burns  admired  this  song 
very  much.  In  a  letter  addressed  to  Mr  George  Thomson, 
dated  7th  June,  1793,  he  says,  "  Mr  Erskine's  songs  are 
all  pretty,  but  his  Lone  Vale  is  divine." 

The  verses  are  adapted  to  a  favourite  Gaelic  melody. 

DLXX. 

JOCKEY'S  TA'EN  THE  PARTING  KISS. 

This  charming  song  was  written  by  Burns  for  the  Museum. 
It  is  adapted  to  the  ancient  air  called  Bonnie  Lassie  tdk  a  Man, 
which  is  also  preserved  in  Oswald's  Caledonian  Pocket  Com- 
panion.   The  old  song  is  supposed  to  be  now  lost. 

DLXXI. 
WHAT'S  THAT  TO  YOU. 

This  is  one  of  Thomas  Durfey's  Anglo-Scottish  produc- 
tions, with  some  alterations  by  Allan  Ramsay.  Durfey^ 
verses  were  printed  with  the  music  in  Playford's  Wit  and 
Mirth,  vol.  iii.  first  edition,  London,  1702.  Some  of  them 
are  very  indelicate,  and  even  the  copy  re-touched  by  Ram- 
say, and  printed  in  the  Tea-Table  Miscellany,  in  1724,  is  not 
altogether  free  from  objections  on  the  same  score.  Ramsay 
directs  the  song  to  be  sung  to  the  tune  of  "  The  Glancing  of 
her  Apron  f  but  this  tune  being  already  inserted  in  a  former 
volume  of  the  Museum,  Johnson  got  the  words  adapted  to  a 
modern  Scots  air.  Mr  James  Hook  of  London,  about  thirty 
years  ago,  composed  a  beautiful  melody  tothe  modernized  verses. 

DLXX1I. 

LITTLE  WAT  YE  WHA'S  COMING. 

This  Jacobite  ballad  was  written  about  the  time  of  the 
rebellion  in  1715.  Its  old  title  was  "  The  Chevalier's  Mus- 
tcr-Roll,  1715."    The  author,  of  course,  is  anonymous. 

The  Dunywastles  (Dhuinc  Uasal,  Gaelic)  were  the  High- 


DLXXII.  LITTLE  WAT  YE  WHA'S  COMING.  491 

Jand  lairds  or  gentlemen.  The  Earls  of  Wigton,  Niths- 
dale,  Carnwath,  and  Derwentwater ;  the  Viscount  Kenmure, 
and  Thomas  Foster,  Esq.  M.P.  for  Northumberland,  and 
commander-in-chief  of  the  Chevalier's  English  forces;  the 
Earl  of  Widdrington  and  Lord  Nairn  are  the  personages  al- 
luded to  in  the  third  stanza  of  the  ballad.  The  names  in  the 
other  verses  are  either  those  of  particular  clans,  or  such  as 
are  applicable  to  all. 

The  old  tune,  to  which  the  words  are  adapted,  was  former- 
ly called  "  Fiddle  Strings  are  dear,  Laddie,"  from  the  first 
line  of  an  ancient,  though  now  almost  forgotten  song.  It 
began — 

Fiddle  strings  are  dear,  laddie, 

Fiddle  strings  are  dear,  laddie, 

An*  ye  break  your  fiddle  strings, 

Ye'se  get  nae  mair  the  year,  laddie. 
The  same  tune,  in  Gow's  and  other  recent  collections,  is 
called  Tail  Toddle,  but  from  what  cause  the  Editor  has  been 
unable  to  discover.  The  old  tune,  called  "  Cuttyman  and 
Treeladle,"  which  is  mentioned  by  Ramsay  in  the  canto  which 
he  added  to  the  ancient  poem  of  «  Christ's  Kirk  on  the 
Green,"  has  a  considerable  resemblance  to  "  Fiddle  Strings 
are  dear,  Laddie."  Both  airs  seem  to  have  been  composed 
about  one  period,  if  not  by  the  same  minstrel. 

DLXXIII. 

O  LEAVE  NOVELS,  YE  MAUCHLINE  BELLES. 
This  humorous  but  friendly  advice  to  the  ladies  of 
Mauchline,  a  town  in  Ayrshire,  on  the  dangers  arising  from 
an  indiscriminate  use  of  novels,  Was  written  by  Burns  in  1785. 
The  Rob  Mossgiell  in  the  ballad  was  our  bard  himself,  who 
has  substituted  the  name  of  his  farm  in  place  of  his  own  sur- 
name. The  words  are  adapted  to  a  favourite  Scots  measure, 
or  dancing  tune. 

DLXXIV. 

0  LAY  THY  LOOF  IN  MINE,  LASS. 

This  song  was  written  by  Burns  for  the  Museum.    It  is 


492  DLXXIV.  O,  LAY  THY  LOOF  IN  MINE,  LASS. 

adapted  to  the  favourite  old  tune,  called  The  Cordzvainer's 
March,  which,  in  former  times,  was  usually  played  before 
that  ancient  and  useful  fraternity,  at  their  annual  procession 
on  St  Crispin's  day.  The  tune  is  also  preserved  in  Aird's 
first  volume  of  Select  Airs,  and  other  collections, 

dlxxv. 

SAW  YE  THE  THANE  O'  MEIKLE  PRIDE. 

This  ballad,  entitled  "  Duncan,  a  fragment,"  was  written 
by  Henry  Mackenzie,  Esq.  author  of  The  Man  of 
Feeling,  and  many  other  well-known  and  justly  esteemed 
works.  It  was  a  juvenile  composition ;  but  when  the  late 
Dr  Blacklock  first  heard  the  author's  father  read  the  manu- 
script of  this  poem  and  that  of  "  Kenneth,1'  as  his  sons  com- 
positions, he  predicted  that  the  young  poet  would,  in  his  more 
advanced  years,  make  a  distinguished  and  respectable  figure 
in  the  republic  of  literature ;  a  prediction  which  has  been 
most  amply  verified. 

Johnson,  the  publisher  of  the  Museum,  has  omitted  seve- 
ral stanzas  of  the  ballad  for  want  of  room,  but  the  reader 
will  find  the  whole  of  it  in  Mr  Mackenzie's  works,  printed  at 
Edinburgh  in  1812,  or  in  Herd's  Collection  in  1776,  and  in 
various  other  publications. 

The  tune  to  which  the  words  are  united  in  the  Museum 
is,  perhaps,  one  of  the  sweetest  melodies,  in  the  minor  mode, 
that  ever  was  played  or  sung.  The  composer's  name  has 
hitherto  eluded  every  research  that  the  Editor  has  made. 

DLXXVI. 
GO,  PLAINTIVE  SOUNDS. 

This  song  was  written  by  William  Hamilton  of  Bangour, 
Esq.  Mr  William  Shield  of  London  set  the  words  to  a  tune 
of  his  own  composition,  which  is  printed  in  Ritson's  Collec- 
tion of  Scottish  Songs,  London  1794.  In  the  Museum  the 
words  are  united  to  a  fine  modern  Scottish  air. 


493 


DLXXVII. 
BRUCE'S  ADDRESS  TO  HIS  ARMY, 

This  justly  celebrated  and  patriotic  song,  beginning  "  Scots 
wha  hae  wi'  Wallace  bled,"  was  written  by  Burns  on  the  1st 
of  August  1793.  The  following  account  of  its  origin,  from 
the  pen  of  his  friend  Mr  Syme,  is  very  interesting. 

On  the  30th  of  July  1793,  Mr  Syme  and  our  bard  set  out 
on  horseback  from  the  hospitable  mansion  of  Mr  Gordon  of 
Kenmure,  for  Gatehouse,  a  village  in  the  stewartry  of  Kirk- 
cudbright. "  I  took  him  (says  Mr  Syme)  by  the  moor-road, 
where  savage  and  desolate  regions  extended  wide  around. 
The  sky  was  sympathetic  with  the  wretchedness  of  the  soil ; 
it  became  louring  and  dark.  The  hollow  winds  sighed,  the 
lightnings  gleamed,  the  thunder  rolled.  The  poet  enjoyed 
the  awful  scene — he  spoke  not  a  word,  but  seemed  rapt  in 
meditation. 

"  What  do  you  think  he  was  about  ?  He  was  charging 
the  English  army  along  with  Bruce  at  Bannockburn.  He 
was  engaged  in  the  same  manner  on  our  ride  home  from  St 
Mary's  Isle,  and  I  did  not  disturb  him.  Next  day  (2d  July 
1793)  he  produced  me  the  following  Address  of  Bruce  to  his 
Troops,  and  gave  me  a  copy  for  Dalzell.,,  (Here  follows  the 
song.) 

In  the  month  of  September  following,  Burns  transmitted 
another  copy  of  the  song  to  Mr  George  Thomson,  accompa- 
nied with  a  letter,  in  which  he  says,  "  I  have  shewed  the  air 
(meaning  Hey  now  the  Day  dawis,  or,  as  it  is  sometimes  called, 
Hey  tatti  taitie)  to  Urbani,  who  was  highly  pleased  with  it, 
and  begged  me  to  make  soft  verses  for  it ;  but  I  had  no  idea 
of  giving  myself  any  trouble  on  the  subject,  till  the  accidental 
recollection  of  that  glorious  struggle  for  freedom,  associated 
with  the  glowing  ideas  of  some  other  struggles  of  the  same 
nature,  not  quite  so  ancient,  roused  my  rhyming  mania.r> 

Mr  Thomson,  on  receiving  the  song,  wrote  Mr  Burns  to 
the  following  effect :  "  Your  heroic  ode  is  to  me  the  noblest 
composition  of  the  kind  in  the  Scottish  language.    I  hap- 


494 


DLXXVII.  BRUCE'S  ADDRESS  TO  HIS  ARMY. 


pened  to  dine  yesterday  with  a  party  of  your  friends,  to  whom 
I  read  it.  They  were  all  charmed  with  it,  entreated  me  to 
find  out  a  suitable  air  for  it,  and  reprobated  the  idea  of  giving 
it  a  tune  so  totally  devoid  of  interest  or  grandeur,  as  "  Hey 
tutti  taitie."  Assuredly,  your  partiality  for  this  tune  must 
arise  from  the  ideas  associated  in  your  mind  by  the  tradition 
concerning  it ;  for  I  never  heard  any  person,  and  I  have  con- 
versed again  and  again  with  the  greatest  enthusiasts  for  Scot- 
tish airs — I  say,  I  have  never  heard  any  one  speak  of  it  as 
worthy  of  notice.,,  Mr  T.  then  proceeds  to  inform  the  bard, 
that  he  had  fixed  on  the  tune  of  Lewie  Gordon  for  the  words ; 
but  this  tune  required  an  elongation  of  the  last  line  of  each 
verse,  to  make  the  words  and  music  agree  together. 

This  unfortunate  criticism  obliged  Burns  to  lengthen  and 
alter  the  last  line  of  every  stanza,  to  suit  the  newly-suggested 
air,  which,  instead  of  improving,  manifestly  injures  the  simple 
majesty  of  the  original.  That  the  old  air  was  susceptible  of 
stirring  up  or  assuaging  the  passions,  according  to  the  differ- 
ent styles  in  which  it  may  be  played  or  sung,  was  at  one 
glance  obvious  to  Urbani,  than  whom  no  better  judge  of 
these  matters  ever  lived.  The  tune  has  also  been  a  favourite 
of  Messrs  Braham,  Incledon,  Sinclair,  and  the  best  singers 
throughout  the  united  kingdom.  To  us,  indeed,  it  appears 
impossible,  that  any  person,  who  is  endowed  with  the  smallest 
portion  of  musical  taste,  can  listen  to  the  song  of  «  The  Land 
of  the  Leal,1'  without  feeling  the  most  tender  emotions  of  pity, 
or  hear  "  The  Bruce's  Address  to  his  Troops,"  without  par- 
taking of  that  patriotic  flame  that  glowed  in  the  breasts  of  his 
gallant  ancestors.  Mr  Thomson,  however,  after  some  years 
reflection,  has  himself  become  a  convert  to  the  united  sense  of 
the  public.  In  a  late  edition  of  his  third  volume,  in  which 
the  tune  of  "  Hey  tutti  taitie"  is  happily  adapted  to  the  ori- 
ginal words  of  Burns,  he  observes,  that  "  the  poet  originally 
intended  this  noble  strain  for  the  air  just  mentioned  ;  but,  on 
a  suggestion  from  the  editor  of  this  work,  who  then  thought 
'  Lewie  Gordon'  a  fitter  tune  for  the  words,  they  were  united 


DLXXVII.— BRUCE'S  ADDRESS  TO  HIS  ARMY. 


495 


together,  and  published  in  the  preceding  volume,  page  74. 
The  editor,  however,  having  since  examined  the  air  '  Hey 
tutti  taitie'  with  more  particular  attention,  frankly  owns,  that 
he  has  changed  his  opinion,  and  that  he  thinks  it  much  better 
adapted  for  giving  energy  to  the  poetry,  than  the  air  of 
4  Lewie  Gordon.' " 

As  the  tune  of  "  Hey  now  the  Day  dawis"  was  inserted  in 
the  second  volume  of  the  Museum,  (vide  Song  No  170,  and 
the  observations  upon  it  in  a  former  part  of  the  present  work) 
Johnson  requested  Mr  William  Clarke,  the  organist,  to  set 
Burns'  song  to  a  simple  ballad  tune  which  he  sent  him.  It  is 
undoubtedly  pretty,  but  by  no  means  calculated  to  give  ade- 
quate expression  to  the  bold  and  energetic  sentiments  of  the 
bard.  Some  people  too,  having  got  by  rote  the  altered  edi- 
tion of  this  poem,  sing  it  to  the  old  air ;  but  they  are  obliged 
to  distort  the  tune,  to  make  it  suit  the  lengthened  lines.  For 
these  reasons,  we  shall  now  present  the  reader  with  the  words 
and  air  in  their  original  simplicity,  according  to  the  first  in- 
tention of  the  bard. 

KING  ROBERT  THE  BRUCE'S  ADDRESS  TO  HIS  ARMY, 

AT  THE  BATTLE  OF  BANNOCKBURN.,  24>th  June  1314, 

As  originally  written  by  Burns, 
To  the  tune  of"  Hey  now  the  Day  dawis." 


/       Scots  wha  hae  wi'  Wallace  bled,  Scots  wham  Bruce  has 


496  DLXXVII.  BRUCE'S  ADDRESS  TO  HIS  ARMY. 


5^ 


Now's  the  day,  and  now's  the  hour,  See  the  front  of  bat -tie  low'r, 


N  h 


See  approach  proud  Edward's  pow'r,  Chains  and  sla-  ve  -  ry 

ee£ee 


Wha  will  be  a  traitor  knave, 
Wha  can  fill  a  coward's  grave, 
Wha  sae  base  as  be  a  slave, 

Let  him  turn  and  flee  ! 
Wha  for  Scotland's  king  and  law 
Freedom's  sword  will  strongly  draw, 
Freemen  stand  or  freemen  fa', 

Let  him  follow  me  ! 

By  oppression's  woes  and  pains  ! 
By  your  sons  in  servile  chains ! 
We  will  drain  our  dearest  veins, 

But  they  shall  be  free. 
Lay  the  proud  usurper  low  ! 
Tyrants  fall  in  every  foe ! 
Liberty's  in  every  blow ! 

Let  us  do,  or  die  ! 


DLXXVIII. 

FAREWELL  YE  FIELDS  AND  MEADOWS  GREEN. 

This  song,  entitled  "  Miss  Forbes'  Farewell  to  Banff," 
was  written  by  the  late  Mr  John  Hamilton,  music-seller  in 
Edinburgh.  It  is  adapted  to  a  favourite  air,  composed  by 
Mr  Isaac  Cooper  of  Banff,  musician. 

The  musical  reader  will  observe  a  considerable  similarity 
between  this  air  and  the  tune  of  Shannon's  flowery  Banks, 
which,  though  generally  supposed  to  be  an  Irish  melody,  was 
composed  by  Mr  James  Hook  of  London,  organist,  in  1783, 
and  sung  by  Mrs  Kennedy,  at  Vauxhall,  with  much  applause. 


497 


DLXXIX. 
THE  BLIND  HARPER. 

This  fine  old  ballad,  beginning  "  0  heard  ye  of  a  silly 
harper,"  with  its  original  melody,  was  recovered  by  Burns, 
and  transmitted  to  Johnson  for  his  Museum. 

Mr  Ritson,  in  his  Historical  Essay  on  Scottish  Song,  al- 
ludes to  this  ballad  in  the  following  words :  "  The  Reverend 
Mr  Boyd,  the  ingenious  translator  of 6  Dante,'  had  a  faint  re- 
collection of  a  ballad  of  a  Scotch  minstrel  who  stole  a  horse 
from  one  of  the  Henrys  of  England." 

In  Mr  Scott's  Minstrelsy  of  the  Border,  we  have  another 
edition  of  the  same  ballad,  under  the  title  of  «  The  Lochma- 
ben  Harper,"  but  it  is  not  so  complete  as  the  copy  in  the  Mu- 
seum. The  fourth,  fifth,  and  eighteenth  stanzas  of  the  ori- 
ginal ballad  are  omitted  in  Mr  Scott's  edition.  The  follow- 
ing stanza,  however,  is  substituted  for  the  eighteenth  : 

Now  all  this  while,  in  merry  Carlisle, 

The  harper  harped  to  high  and  low, 

And  the  fiend  thing  dought  they  do  but  listen  him  to, 

Until  the  day  began  to  daw. 

Mr  Scott  has  the  following  verse  at  the  end  of  his  edition, 
which  is  not  in  the  original : 

Then  aye  he  harped,  and  aye  he  carped, 
Sae  sweet  were  the  harpings  he  let  them  hear; 
He  was  paid  for  the  foal  he  had  never  lost, 
And  three  times  o'er  for  the  gude  gray  mare. 

In  Mr  Scott's  copy,  the  scene  is  laid  at  Carlisle,  and  the 
warden  of  that  city  is  substituted  for  King  Henry  himself. 

DLXXX. 
MY  NANNIE,  O. 

This  song,  beginning  "  Behind  yon  hills  where  riv'lets 
row,"  was  written  by  Burns,  and  printed  in  the  second  edi- 
tion of  his  Poems,  at  Edinburgh,  in  1787.  The  first  line  of 
the  song,  as  originally  written,  was  "  Behind  yon  hills  where 
Stinchar  flows,"  but  Burns  afterwards  inserted  the, word 
Lugar,  the  name  of  another  river  in  the  county  of  Ayr,  in 
preference  to  the  former,  as  being  more  agreeable  to  the  ear. 


498  DLXXX. — MY  NANNIE,  O. 

Burns  directs  the  song  to  be  sung  to  the  tunc  of  "  My 
Nannie,  0."  This  fine  air  is  inserted  in  the  first  volume  of 
the  Museum,  with  the  words  by  Allan  Ramsay. —  Vide  Song 
No  88.  In  order  to  avoid  a  repetition  of  the  same  tune,  Mr 
William  Clarke  adapted  the  verses  by  Burns  to  a  favourite 
modern  melody,  composed  by  Mr  Thomas  Ebdon  of  Dur- 
ham, organist. 

DLXXXI. 

GO  FROM  MY  WINDOW,  LOVE,  DO. 
This  fragment  of  an  ancient  ballad,  with  its  melody,  was 
recovered  by  Burns,  and  transmitted  to  Johnson  for  the  Mu- 
seum. It  is  all  that  remains,  we  believe,  of  one  of  those 
secular  songs  that  were  parodied  about  the  dawn  of  the  Re- 
formation in  Scotland,  and  printed  by  Wedderburne  in 
1549,  under  the  title  of  "  Ane  compendious  Booke  of  Godly 
and  Spirituall  Songs,  collectit  out  of  sundrie  partes  of  the 
scripture,  with  sundrie  of  other  ballates,  changed  out  of  pro- 
faine  sanges,  for  avoiding  sinne  and  harlotrie."  The  Editor, 
however,  has  met  with  a  far  more  ancient,  and,  he  thinks, 
more  genuine  set  of  the  melody  than  that  communicated  by 
Burns,  which  he  shall  now  annex  with  the  first  verse  of  Wed- 
derburne's  parody. 


Slow. 


/        Who  is 

4 

at 

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my 

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vho, 

— i  f 

who?  G 

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1 

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rindo 

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1 — f. —  |L — L_  J 

DLXXXI.  GO  FROM  MY  WINDOW,  LOVE,  DO.  499 


<      from  my  window,  go. 


k  L  ^ 

Wedderburn's  parody  must  have  been  well  known  in  Eng- 
land early  in  the  reign  of  Elizabeth,  for  a  new  tune  was  made 
to  it  by  J.  D.  i.  e.  John  Dowland,  which  is  still  preserved 
in  a  work  called  "  An  Instruction  to  the  Orpharion,"  print- 
ed at  London  by  William  Barley,  in  1596.  Dowland  con- 
tributed "  Mrs  Winter's  Jump,"  and  several  other  airs,  to  this 
work  ;  but  his  tune  of  "  Go  from  my  Window,  goe,"  is  alto- 
gether different  from  the  ancient  Scottish  melody. 

DLXXXII. 

THE  RAIN  RINS  DOWN  THRO'  MIRRYLAND  TOWN. 

This  old  Scottish  ballad  was  published  by  Bishop  Percy, 
under  the  title  of  "  The  Jew's  Daughter,1'  in  his  Reliques 
of  Ancient  Poetry,  printed  at  London  in  1765.  The  manu- 
script was  sent  to  him  from  Scotland. 

The  bishop  observes,  that  "  the  ballad  is  probably  built 
upon  some  Italian  legend,  and  bears  a  great  resemblance  to 
the  Prioresse's  Tale  in  Chaucer  ;  the  poet  seems  also  to  have 
had  an  eye  to  the  known  story  of  Hugh  of  Lincoln,  a  child 
said  to  have  been  murthered  there  by  the  Jews,  in  the  reio-n 
of  Henry  III.  The  conclusion  of  this  ballad  appears  to  be 
wanting :  what  it  probably  contained,  may  be  seen  in  Chau- 
cer. As  for  Mirryland-Town,  it  is  probably  a  corruption 
of  Milan  (called  by  the  Dutch  Meylandt)  Toun  ;  since  the 
Pa  is  evidently  the  river  Po." — Percy's  Reliques. 

The  story  of  Hugh  of  Lincoln,  a  boy  about  eight  years 
old,  being  murdered  by  the  Jews,  and  of  the  child's  body 
having  been  discovered  in  a  well  by  his  disconsolate  mother, 
with  the  punishments  inflicted  on  that  dispersed  and  perse- 
cuted people,  are  circumstantially  narrated  by  Mathew  Paris. 
But  Bishop  Percy  observes,  that  "  the  supposed  practice  of 


500  DLXXXIL— ■— THE  It  A  IN  RINS  DOWN,  &C 

the  Jews,  in  crucifying,  and  otherwise  murdering,  Christian 
children  out  of  hatred  to  the  religion  of  their  parents,  hath 
always  been  alleged  in  excuse  for  the  cruelties  exercised  up- 
on that  wretched  people,  but  which  probably  never  happened 
in  a  single  instance.  For,  if  we  consider,  on  the  one  hand, 
the  ignorance  and  superstition  of  the  times  when  such  stories 
took  their  rise,  the  virulent  prejudices  of  the  monks  who  re- 
cord them,  and  the  eagerness  with  which  they  would  be 
catched  up  by  the  barbarous  populace  as  a  pretence  for  plun- 
der ;  on  the  other  hand,  the  great  danger  incurred  by  the 
perpetrators,  and  the  inadequate  motives  they  could  have  to 
excite  them  to  a  crime  of  so  much  horror,  we  may  reasonably 
conclude  the  whole  charge  to  be  groundless  and  malicious." 

There  are  various  editions  of  this  ballad.  That  in  the 
Museum,  which  was  taken  from  Percy's  Reliques,  volume 
first,  is  merely  a  fragment.  A  more  perfect  copy  was  pub- 
lished by  Mr  Jamieson  in  his  Ancient  Ballads  and  Songs, 
printed  at  Edinburgh  in  1806.  It  was  taken  down,  verba- 
tim, from  the  recitation  of  Mrs  Brown  of  Falkland,  wife  of 
the  reverend  Dr  Brown.  Another  edition  of  the  ballad,  un- 
der the  title  of  "  Sir  Hugh,'1  appears  in  Gilchrist's  Scottish 
Ballads,  vol.  i.  page  210.  Edinburgh,  1814.  But  the  fol- 
lowing edition,  communicated  by  an  intelligent  antiquarian 
correspondent,  appears  to  be  the  most  complete  version  yet 
obtained. 

SIR  HUGH  OF  LINCOLN, 

An  old  Scottish  Ballad. 

The  rain  rins  down  thro'  merry  Lincoln, 
Sae  does  it  down  the  Pa  ; 
Sae  rin  the  lads  o'  merry  Lincoln, 
Whan  they  play  at  the  ba\ 

Four  and  twenty  bonnie  young  boys 
Were  playing  at  the  ba', 
With  sweet  Sir  Hugh  of  Lincoln  town, 
The  flower  amang  them  a'. 


DLXXXII.— THE  RAIN  ItlNS  DOWN,  &C. 


He  kick'd  the  ba'  wi'  his  right  foot, 
And  stopt  it  wi'  his  knee, 
And  thro'  and  thro'  the  Jew's  window- 
He  gard  it  quickly  flee. 

Sir  Hugh  hied  to  the  Jews  castle, 
And  walk'd  it  round  about, 
And  there  he  saw  the  Jew's  daughter, 
At  a  window  looking  out. 

"  Cast  down  the  ba'  to  me,  fair  maid  ; 
Cast  down  the  ba'  to  me :" 
"  I  winna  cast  down  the  ba,"  she  said, 
"  Till  you  come  up  to  me." 

"  How  will  I  come  up?"  said  sweet  Sir  Hugh 
"  How  can  I  come  up  to  thee  ? 
For  as  ye  did  to  my  father  dear, 
The  same  yell  do  to  me." 

t(  Come  in  Sir  Hugh,  my  dear  Sir  Hugh, 
And  ye  sail  get  the  ha'  f 
"  I  winna  come  in,  I  canna  come  in, 
Without  my  play-fere's  a'." 

Then  outen  came  the  Jew's  daughter, 
The  sweet  Sir  Hugh  to  win; 
She  powd  the  apples  red  and  white, 
And  wyl'd  the  young  thing  in. 

She  has  wyl'd  him  thro'  ae  dark  dark  room, 

Sae  has  she  done  thro'  twa : 

She  has  wyl'd  him  to  anither  room 

The  mirkest  o'  them  a'. 

Then  she  has  ta'en  a  sharp  pen-knife, 
That  hung  down  by  her  gair, 
And  she  has  twin'd  Sir  Hugh  o'  his  life  • 
Ae  word  he  never  spake  mair. 

She  laid  him  on  a  dressing-board 
Whar  she  did  aften  dine ; 
And  then  she  took  his  fair  body, 
And  drest  it  like  a  swine. 

And  first  came  out  the  thick  thick  blood, 
And  syne  came  out  the  thin, 
And  syne  came  out  the  bonnie  heart's  blood 
There  was  nac  life  left  in. 


DLXXXII.  THE  11AIK  1UNS  DOWN, 


She  rowd  him  in  a  cake  of  lead, 
Bade  him  lie  still  and  sleep  : 
She  cast  him  in  a  garden  well, 
Was  fifty  fathom  deep. 

When  bells  were  rung,  and  mass  was  sung, 
An'  a'  the  bairns  came  hame ; 
Then  ilka  lady  had  her  young  son, 
But  lady  Helen  had  nane. 

She  wrapt  her  mantle  her  about, 
And  sair  sair  gan  she  weep, 
Till  she  came  to  the  Jew's  castle, 
When  all  were  fast  asleep. 

"  My  bonnie  Sir  Hugh,  my  pretty  Sir  Hugh, 

I  pray  thee  to  me  speak 

"  O  lady  rin  to  the  deep  draw-well, 

Gin  ye  your  son  wad  seek." 

Then  she  ran  to  the  deep  draw-well, 
And  knelt  upon  her  knee  ; 
"  My  bonnie  Sir  Hugh,  my  sweet  Sir  Hugh, 
I  pray  thee  speak  to  me." 

"  The  lead  is  wond'rous  heavy,  mither, 
The  well  is  very  deep ; 
A  keen  pen-knife  sticks  in  my  heart, 
But,  mither,  dinna  weep." 

Gae  hame,  gae  hame,  my  mither  dear, 
Prepare  my  winding-sheet, 
And  at  the  back  o'  merry  Lincoln, 
It's  there  we  twa  sail  meet. 

Now  lady  Helen  is  gane  hame, 
Made  him  a  winding-sheet, 
And,  at  the  back  o'  merry  Lincoln 
The  dead  corpse  did  her  meet. 

And  a'  the  bells  o'  merry  Lincoln, 
Without  men's  hands  were  rung  ; 
And  a'  the  books  o'  merry  Lincoln, 
Were  read  without  men's  tongue. 

Was  never  heard  in  Christantie, 
By  woman,  chyld,  or  man, 
Sic  sclcouth  sounds  at  a  burial, 
Sen  Adam's  days  began. 


DLXXXII.  THE  RAIN  RINS  DOWN,  &C. 


503 


Though  the  foregoing  ballad  is  Scottish,  yet,  in  all  pro- 
bability, it  has  been  derived  from  a  still  more  ancient  English 
tragic  ballad ;  for  the  scene  of  it  not  only  lies  in  England, 
but  the  English  tune  to  which  it  was  sung  is  also  known. 
It  is  very  different  from  the  Scottish  melody,  and  seems  even 
more  appropriate  to  the  melancholy  catastrophe  of  the  poem. 
For  the  satisfaction  of  the  reader,  we  shall  annex  the  English 
air,  from  Mr  Smith's  "  Musica  Antiqua,"  vol.  i.  folio  65. 

THE  JEW'S  DOCHTER. 


The  rain  rins  doon  thro'  mirryland  toun,  Sae  does  it  doon  the 


»   ■  * 


m 


Pa ;       Sae  does  the  lads    o'     mir  -  ry  -  land  toun,  When 


 ~f 

*  i     "  • 

they  play  at  the 

ba'.    Then  o 

- "  \  "\'r 

i  ■  ■    j  W- 

A  1  1>| — i 

ut  and  cam  the  c 

ew's  dc 

chter,  Said, 
■f  

— •  - 

:,  : 

3£3 


m 


Will  ye  come   in  and   dine  ?     I    win  -  na  come  in,  I 


i 


1 


can-na  come  in,  Without  my  playferes  ni 


504 


DLXXXIII. 
CAULD  IS  THE  E'ENING  BLAST. 

This  short  song  was  written  by  Burns  for  the  Museum. 
It  is  adapted  to  an  old  Scottish  air,  called  "  Peggy  Ram- 
say,"" which,  in  several  bars,  resembles  the  tune  of  "  O'er 
Bogie."  The  ancient  words,  adapted  to  the  tune  of  Peggy 
Ramsay,  began — 

Bonny  Peggy  Ramsay, 
As  ony  man  may  see, 
Has  a  bonny  sweet  face, 
And  a  gleg  glintin  ee. 

The  old  song  is  witty,  but  indelicate.  A  corrupted  copy 
of  it  was  inserted  in  the  third  volume  of  Henry  Playford's 
Pills,  published  at  London  in  1704,  who  directs  it  to  be  sung 
to  the  tune  of  "  The  Suburbs  of  London/'  which  is  totally 
different  and  very  inferior  to  the  original  Scottish  air. 

DLXXXIV. 

O,  TURN  AWAY  THOSE  CRUEL  EYES. 

The  author  of  this  song  is  unknown  to  the  Editor.  It  is 
adapted  to  an  old  air,  called  "  Be  Lordly,  Lassie,"  from 
the  first  line  of  a  silly  old  nursery  song,  beginning — 

Be  lordly,  lassie,  be  lordly, 
Be  lordly,  lassie,  be  lordly  ; 
Put  a  hand  in  each  side 
And  walk  like  a  bride, 
Your  mither  bids  you  be  lordly. 

DLXXXV. 

O,  MARY,  YE'S  BE  CLAD  IN  SILK. 

This  song  is  only  slightly  altered  from  the  original  words 
of  "  The  Siller  Crown,"  which  the  reader  will  find  in  the 
third  volume  of  the  Museum. —  Vide  Song  No  240. 

This  new  version  of  "  The  Siller  Crown"  first  appeared 
in  Urbani's  Collection  of  Scottish  Songs,  adapted  to  a  beauti- 
ful modern  Scottish  air,  composed  by  Miss  Grace  Corbett 
of  Edinburgh  when  she  was  only  eleven  years  old.  Both 
the  words  and  new  melody  were  copied  into  the  sixth  volume 
of  the  Museum,  by  Urbani's  permission. 


505 


DLXXXXVI. 
THERE  WAS  A  BONNIE  LASS. 

This  song  was  written  by  Burns.  The  words  are  adapt- 
ed to  the  tune  of  a  favourite  slow  march. 

DLXXXVII. 
NO  CHURCHMAN  AM  I. 

This  is  another  production  of  Burns.  It  was  published 
in  the  second  edition  of  his  poems,  printed  at  Edinburgh  in 
1787.  The  words  are  adapted  to  a  beautiful  tune,  called 
"  The  Lazy  Mist,"  from  the  last  volume  of  Oswald's  Cale- 
donian Pocket  Companion.  Several  modern  songs,  such  as 
"  Prepare,  my  dear  Brethren," — "  Honest  Dermot,"  &c. 
have  been  united  to  this  fine  old  air. 

DLXXXVIII. 
THE  HIGHLANDER'S  LAMENT. 

This  song,  beginning  "  A  soldier  for  gallant  achievements 
renown'd,"  is  a  fragment  of  a  larger  poem,  supposed  to  have 
been  written  by  an  anonymous  hand  after  the  battle  of  Cul- 
loden,  in  1746.    The  tune  is  said  to  be  a  Gaelic  melody. 

DLXXXIX. 
THERE'S  NEWS,  LASSES,  NEWS ! 
This  humorous  song  was  retouched  by  Burns  from  a  very 
ancient  one,  called  "  I  winna  gang  to  my  Bed  until  I  get  a 
Man."  It  is  adapted  to  the  lively  old  original  air,  which  may 
be  considered  one  of  the  earliest  specimens  of  Scottish 
Reels.  It  appears  in  Skene's  MSS.  circa,  1570,  under  the 
title  of  /  winna  gang  to  my  Bed  till  I  sud  die. 

ITXC. 

HARD  IS  THE  FATE  OF  HIM  WHO  LOVES. 
This  elegant  pastoral  song  was  written  by  James  Thom- 
son, Esq.  the  well-known  author  of  "  The  Seasons,"  "  The 
Castle  of  Indolence,"  and  many  other  excellent  poems.  The 
composer  of  the  plaintive  air,  to  which  the  words  are  suited, 
is  not  known.  The  bass  part  was  added  by  Mr  William 
Clarke. 


506 


DXCI. 

YE  MUSES  NINE,  O  LEND  YOUR  AID! 
This  song,  entitled  The  Highland  King,  made  its  appear- 
ance soon  after  the  publication  of  The  Highland  Queen,  by  Mr 
Macvicar,  to  which  it  was  intended  as  an  answer.  Vide  Song, 
No  1.  vol  i.  of  the  Museum.  It  was  printed  as  a  sheet  song, 
and  did  not  appear  in  any  regular  collection  until  the  publi- 
cation of  Wilson's  "  St  Cecilia,"  at  Edinburgh  in  1779. 
The  author  of  the  song,  as  well  as  the  composer  of  the  melo- 
dy, have  hitherto  escaped  the  Editor's  researches. 

dxcii. 

NELLY'S  DREAM. 

This  song,  beginning  Bright  the  moon  aboon  yon  moun- 
tain, was  written  by  the  late  Mr  John  Hamilton,  music-sel- 
ler in  Edinburgh.  He  published  it  with  the  music  as  a  sheet 
song,  and  it  was  copied  into  the  Museum  by  his  permission. 
Mr  Hamilton  furnished  several  other  songs  for  the  same 
work. 

dxciii. 

»     O  THAT  I  HAD  NE'ER  BEEN  MARRIED. 

The  first  verse  of  this  song  is  old  ;  the  second  was  written 
by  Burns  for  the  Museum.  The  Bard  likewise  communica- 
ted the  beautiful  old  air  to  which  it  is  united. 

In  a  letter  to  Mrs  Dunlop,  dated  5th  December,  1795, 
Burns  introduces  the  original  lines  to  her  notice,  with  the  fol- 
lowing prefatory  remarks  :  "  There  had  much  need  be  ma- 
ny pleasures  annexed  to  the  states  of  husband  and  father ; 
for,  God  knows  !  they  have  many  peculiar  cares.  I  cannot 
describe  to  you  the  anxious  sleepless  hours  these  ties  fre- 
quently give  me.  I  see  a  train  of  helpless  little  folks,  me 
and  my  exertions  all  their  stay ;  and  on  what  a  brittle  thread 
does  the  life  of  man  hang  !  If  I  am  nipt  off  at  the  command 
of  fate,  even  in  all  the  vigour  of  manhood  as  I  am— such 
things  happen  every  day ; — gracious  God  !  what  would  be- 
come of  my  little  flock  !  'Tis  here  that  I  envy  your  people 
of  fortune.  A  father  on  his  death-bed,  taking  an  everlasting- 
leave  of  his  children,  has  indeed  woe  enough ;  but  the  man 


1 


DXCIII.  O  THAT  I  HAD  NE'ER  BEEN  MARRIED.  507 

of  competent  fortune  leaves  his  sons  and  daughters  independ- 
ency and  friends ;  while  I  but  I  shall  run  distracted  if  I 

think  any  longer  on  the  subject ! 

"  To  leave  talking  of  the  matter  so  gravely,  I  shall  sing 
with  the  old  Scots  ballad — 

cc  O  that  I  had  ne'er  been  married, 
I  would  never  had  nae  care ; 
Now  I've  gotten  wife  and  bairns— 
They  cry,  crowdie  !  evermair. 

Crowdie !  ance — crowdie ! — twice—- 
Crowdie !  three  times  in  a  day ; 
An  ye  crowdie  ony  mair, 
Ye'll  crowdie  a'  my  meal  away." 

DXCIV. 

O  GIN  MY  LOVE  WERE  YON  RED  ROSE. 

This  fragment  is  copied  verbatim  from  Herd's  Collection, 
printed  in  1776.  Burns  had  a  high  opinion  of  its  poetical 
merit.  In  a  letter  to  Mr  Thomson,  he  says,  "  Do  you  know 
the  following  beautiful  little  fragment  in  Witherspoon's  Col- 
lection of  Scots  Songs  ? 

Air. — "  Hughie  Graham" 

"  O  gin  my  love  were  yon  red  rose 
That  grows  upon  the  castle  wa', 
And  I  mysel'  a  drap  o'  dew, 
Into  her  bonnie  breast  to  fa' ! 
Oh  !  there,  beyond  expression  blest, 
I'd  feast  on  beauty  a'  the  night  : 
Seal'd  on  her  silk-saft  faulds  to  rest, 
Till  fley'd  awa'  by  Phoebus'  light. 

"  This  thought  is  inexpressibly  beautiful,  and  quite,  so  far 
as  I  know,  original.  It  is  too  short  for  a  song,  else  I  would 
forswear  you  altogether,  unless  you  gave  it  a  place.  I  have 
often  tried  to  eke  a  stanza  to  it,  but  in  vain.  After  balancing 
myself,  for  a  musing  five  minutes,  on  the  hind-legs  of  my  el- 
bow-chair, I  produced  the  following  : 


"  O  were  my  love  yon  lilac  fair, 
Wi'  purple  blossoms  to  the  spring ; 
And  I  a  bird  to  shelter  there, 
When  wearied  on  my  little  wing  ; 

'ft  \      >  V         M     6  i    I  * 

vWAvcv  twc^  vvviw  Ycui  <suvV  hXu^iv^,  m 

...        ~     J      1         n  i        \     .         A    _  \    I  A 


DXCIV.  O  GIN  MY  LOVE  WERE  YON  RED  ROSE. 


How  wad  I  mourn  when  it  was  torn 
By  autumn  wild  and  winter  rude  ! 
But  I  wad  sing  on  wanton  wing 
When  youthfu'  May  its  bloom  renew'd." 

"  These  verses  are  very  far  inferior  to  the  foregoing,  I 
frankly  confess ;  but  if  worthy  insertion  at  all,  they  might  be 
first  in  place,  as  every  poet,  who  knows  any  thing  of  his  trade, 

will  husband  his  best  thoughts  for  a  concluding  stroke.'"  

Burns*  Works. 

Mr  Thomson  paid  attention  to  this  hint  in  arranging  the 
old  and  new  words ;  but,  in  place  of  the  air  of  "  Hughie 
Graham,"  (the  music  and  words  of  which  old  ballad  are 
printed  in  the  fourth  volume  of  the  Museum,  vide  Song  No 
303),  he  has  adapted  the  song  to  a  Gaelic  or  Irish  melody ; 
for  it  is  claimed  by  both  nations.  This  melody,  in  Gow's 
Second  Collection,  is  called  Ceanu  dubh  dileas,  and  in  Fra- 
ser's  Highland  Airs,  Cuir  a  glmoil  dileas  tharrum  do  lamh, 
i.  e.  "  Place,  true  Love,  thine  arms  around  me."  All  these 
three  sets  of  the  tune  differ,  in  some  notes,  from  each  other, 
as  well  as  from  the  Irish  set  of  the  same  air,  printed  in  the 
Irish  Melodies. 

In  the  Museum,  the  words  of  O  gin  my  Love  were  yon  red 
Rose,  are  united  to  a  strathspey  tune,  printed  in  Gow's  Fourth 
Collection  of  Reels,  &c.  under  the  title  of  «  Lord  Balconies 
Favourite,  a  very  old  Highland  tune,"  which  was  afterwards 
published  under  the  new  title  of  «  Gloomy  Winter's  now  awa," 
from  the  first  line  of  a  beautiful  Scots  song  adapted  to  that 
air,  written  by  the  late  Mr  Robert  Tannahill  of  Paisley. 
This  strathspey,  however,  has  lately  been  claimed  as  a  modern 
production  by  Mr  Alexander  Campbell,  the  editor  of  Albyn's 
Anthology.  In  the  first  volume  of  that  work,  Mr  C.  says 
he  composed  this  strathspey  in  the  year  1783,  and  in  ]  791,  or 
1792,  he  published  and  inscribed  it  to  the  Rev.  Patrick  Mac- 
donald  of  Kilmore.  The  writer  of  this  article  has  made  a  di- 
ligent search  for  this  production,  but  has  met  with  no  copy  to 
decide  the  question  between  Messrs  Gow  and  Campbell.  But 


DXCIV.— O  GIN  MY  LOVE  WERE  YON  RED  ROSE.  509 

the  reader,  on  comparing  the  air  of  Burns'  song  of  c<  O  lay 
thy  Loof  in  mine,  Lass,"  (vide  No  574  of  the  Museum),  which 
was  taken  from  Aird's  First  Collection,  and  has  been  known 
time  out  of  mind  by  the  name  of  "  The  Cordwainer's  March," 
will  observe  a  striking  similarity  between  it  and  the  disputed 
composition. 

But  the  proper  air  of  «  O  gin  my  Love  were  but  a 
Bose,"  is  neither  the  Strathspey  in  question,  nor  Hughie 
Graham,  nor  the  Gaelic  or  Irish  Melody  before  alluded 
to.  Both  the  words  and  air  of  this  old  song  are  still  very 
well  known.  The  first  four  lines  of  it,  as  printed  in  Herd's 
Collection,  only  are  genuine  ;  the  other  four,  though  beauti- 
ful, are  comparatively  modern.  The  strain  of  double  mean- 
ing, that  runs  through  the  whole  of  the  eight  verses  of  the  old 
song,  prevents  their  insertion  in  the  present  work ;  but  the 
tune  to  which  they  are  uniformly  sung,  is  that  which  Mr 
Anderson  has  selected  for  his  song  of  Gently  blow  ye  East- 
em  Breezes,  printed  in  the  sixth  volume  of  the  Museum. 
Vide  Song  No.  562. 

DXCV. 

THERE'S  NAE  LUCK  ABOUT  THE  HOUSE,  WHEN  OUR  GOOD- 
WIFE'S  AW  A. 

This  very  humorous  modern  ballad  is  a  parody  of  the 
celebrated  poetic  tale,  called  The  Wife  of  Juchtermuchty, 
which  tradition  affirms  to  have  been  composed  by  a  priest  of 
the  name  of  Moffat,  in  the  reign  of  James  V.  A  manuscript 
copy  of  the  original,  which  is  preserved  in  the  Bannatyne 
Manuscript  of  1568,  in  the  Advocates'  Library,  Edinburgh, 
corroborates  the  traditional  account,  for  the  signature  "  quod 
Moffat"  is  actually  subjoined  to  that  copy.  This  curious  old 
ballad  is  printed  in  Herd's  Collection  1776,  and  in  several 
others.  But  the  most  perfect  edition  is  that  in  Blackwood's 
Edinburgh  Monthly  Magazine  for  April  1817. 

The  name  of  the  author  of  the  parody  has  not  yet  been 
discovered  ;  but  the  writer  has  evidently  meant  it  to  be  an 
answer  to  the  beautiful  ballad  of,  There's  nae  Luck  about 

5 


510  dxcv.- — there's  nae  luck  about  the  house,  &c. 


.        the  House  when  our  Gudeman's  awa,  which  was  written  by 

JL  William  Julius  Mickle,  Esq.,  the  ingenious  translator  of 

The  Lusiad.  It  is  printed  in  the  first  volume  of  the 
Museum.  Vide  Song,  No  44.  The  beautiful  tune  to  which 
Mickle's  ballad  was  adapted,  would  have  suited  the  parody 
equally  well ;  but  Johnson  united  the  latter  to  a  sprightly 
modern  tune  for  the  sake  of  greater  variety. 

DXCVI. 
WILLIE  AND  ANNET. 

This  old  Border  ballad  was  inserted  in  Herd's  Collection 
in  1776.  In  the  Museum  the  words  are  adapted  to  an  air  in 
the  new  series  of  The  Vocal  Magazine,  published  at  Edin- 
burgh, by  the  late  Mr  James  Sibbald,  in  1803.  In  that  work 
the  air  is  said  to  have  been  "  communicated  by  a  lady  in 
Orkney.''  But  the  old  Border  melody  is  much  better  adapted 
to  the  words.    Vide  notes  on  Song  No  482,  of  the  Museum. 

DXCVII. 

O  MALLY'S  MEEK,  MALLY'S  SWEET. 

This  song  was  written  by  Burns  for  the  Museum.  He 
also  communicated  the  air  to  which  it  is  united ;  but  it  is  evi- 
dently borrowed  from  the  fine  old  Lowland  melody  of 
Andro  and  his  cutty  Gun. 

XCVIII. 

TELL  ME,  JESSY,  TELL  ME  WHY. 

This  song  was  written  and  published  by  the  late  Mr  John 
Hamilton,  music-seller  in  Edinburgh,  by  whose  permission  it 
was  inserted  in  the  Museum. 

DXC1X. 

I  CARE  NA  FOR  YOUR  EEN  SAE  £LUE. 

This  song  was  also  written  and  published  by  Mr  John  Ha- 
milton, before  it  appeared,  by  his  permission,  in  the  Museum. 

DC. 

GOOD  NIGHT  AND  JOY  BE  WI'  YOU  A'. 
This  beautiful  tune  has,  time  out  of  mind,  been  played  at 
the  breaking  up  of  convivial  parties  in  Scotland.    The  prin- 
cipal publishers  of  Scottish  music  have  also  adopted  it,  as  their 

\  V  k\        A      X  \\   r       I)  L*  M 


DC.  GOOD  NIGHT  AND  JOY  BE  Wl'  YOU  a\  Ml 

farewell  air,  in  closing  their  musical  works.  Macgibbon  placed 
it  at  the  end  of  his  third  and  last  volume  of  Scottish  Airs,  pub- 
lished in  1755.  Oswald  closed  the  fourth  volume  of  his  Ca- 
ledonian Pocket  Companion  with  the  same  air.  Oswald  pro- 
bably then  thought  it  would  be  the  last  volume  of  his  work, 
but  he  afterwards  found  materials  for  no  less  than  eight 
more.  Mr  James  Johnson  followed  the  same  example,  in 
closing  his  sixth  and  last  volume  of  the  Scots  Musical  Mu- 
seum. 

There  are  two  songs  adapted  to  this  air  in  the  Museum. 
The  first  is  said  to  have  been  composed  by  Thomas  Arm- 
strong, the  night  before  his  execution  for  the  murder  of  Sir 
John  Carmichael  of  Edrom,  warden  of  the  middle  marches 
on  the  Border  of  Scotland.  The  warden  was  murdered  16th 
June  1600,  and  Armstrong  suffered  on  14th  November 
1601.  It  is  by  no  means  certain  that  these  verses  are  the 
original  words. 

This  tune  was  a  particular  favourite  with  Burns,  who 
wrote  the  second  song,  beginning  Adieu !  a  heartwarm 
fond  adieu  I  In  one  of  his  letters,  he  says,  «  Ballad- 
making  is  now  as  completely  my  hobby-horse,  as  ever  fortifi- 
cation was  Uncle  Toby's  ;  so  I'll  e'en  canter  it  away  till  I 
come  to  the  limit  of  my  race,  (God  grant  that  I  may  take 
the  right  side  of  the  winni  ng-post !),  and  then,  cheer- 
fully looking  back  on  the  honest  folks  with  whom  I  have 
been  happy,  I  shall  say  or  sing,  6  Sae  merry  as  we  a'  hae 
been  !'  and  raising  my  last  looks  to  the  whole  of  the  human 
race,  the  last  words  of  the  voice  of  Coila  shall  be,  c  Good 
night  and  joy  be  wi'  you  a'  ?  Works,  vol  iv.  Burns  here 
calls  himself  the  Voice  of  Coila,  in  imitation  of  Ossian, 
who  styles  himself  the  Voice  of  Cona.  Coila,  or  Kyle,  is  the 
middle  bailiewick  of  Ayrshire. 

The  second  song  was  printed  in  Burns's  Works,  at  Edin- 
burgh in  1787.  It  is  there  entitled  «  The  Farewell  to  the 
Brethren  of  St  James's  Lodge,  Tarbolton,  tune,  Good  Night 
and  Joy  be  wi'  you  a'."    Burns  became  a  member  of  this 


512  DC.  GOOD  NIGHT  AND  JOY  BE  WI1  YOU  a\ 

lodge  of  Freemasons,  after  his  family  removed  to  the  farm  of 
Lochlea,  in  the  parish  of  Tarbolton,  Ayrshire."  During  this 
period  (says  his  brother  Gilbert,)  he  became  a  Freemason, 
which  was  his  first  introduction  to  the  life  of  a  boon  com- 
panion. Yet,  notwithstanding  these  circumstances,  and  the 
praises  he  has  bestowed  on  Scotch  drink,  (which  seem  to 
have  misled  his  historians,)  I  do  not  recollect,  during  these 
seven  years,  nor  towards  the  end  of  his  commencing  author 
(when  his  growing  celebrity  occasioned  his  being  often  in 
company,)  to  have  ever  seen  him  intoxicated,  nor  was  he  at 
all  given  to  drinking." — Life  of  Burns. 

We  shall  conclude  these  remarks  with  the  following  mas- 
terly song,  to  the  same  tune,  written  by  Alexander  Bosweli 
of  Auchinleck,  Esq.  M.  P.  It  is  entitled  «  The  old  Chef- 
tain  to  his  Sons,"  and  conclude  the  fourth  volume  of  Mr 
George  Thomson's  Collection  of  Scottish  Songs. 

Good  night,  and  joy  be  wi'  ye  a', 

Your  harmless  mirth  has  cheer'd  my  heart ; 

May  life's  fell  blasts  out-o'er  ye  blavv  ! 

In  sorrow  may  ye  never  part ! 

My  spirit  lives,  but  strength  is  gone, 

The  mountain  fires  now  blaze  in  vain : 

Remember,  sons,  the  deeds  I've  done, 

And  in  your  deeds  I'll  live  again  ! 

When  on  yon  muir  our  gallant  clan, 
Frae  boasting  foes  their  banners  tore. 
Who  show'd  himsel  a  better  man, 
Or  fiercer  wav'd  the  red  claymore  ? 
But  when  in  peace — then  mark  me  there, 
When  thro'  the  glen  the  wanderer  came, 
I  gave  him  of  our  hardy  fare, 
I  gave  him  here  a  welcome  hame. 

The  auld  will  speak,  the  young  maun  hear, 

Be  canty,  but  be  good  and  leal ; 

Your  ain  ills  ay  hae  heart  to  bear, 

Anither's  ay  hae  heart  to  feel ; 

So,  ere  I  set,  I'll  see  you  shine, 

I'll  see  you  triumph  ere  I  fa' ; 

My  parting  breath  shall  boast  you  mine, 

Good  night,  and  joy  be  wi'  ye  a'. 

FINIS. 


Oliver  $  Boyd,  Printers. 


[    513  ] 


ADDITIONAL  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


PART  VI. 


Dili. 

RED  GLEAMS  THE  SUN. 
This  Song  was  afterwards  inserted  by  the  author  in  his 
collection  of  «  Poetry  chiefly  in  the  Scotish  Language.  By 
Robert  Couper,  M.D."  Inverness,  1804,  2  vols.  12mo. 
He  was  the  author  of  other  lyrical  pieces.  One  of  these, 
written  "  to  a  beautiful  old  Highland  air,"  called  Geordy 
Agam,  is  inserted  in  Campbell's  Albyn's  Anthology,  vol.  ii. 
p.  23.  The  author  states,  that  he  wrote  this  song  at 
the  request  of  L.  G.  G.  (Lady  Georgiana  Gordon,  now 
Duchess  of  Bedford),  and  that  it  alludes  «  to  her  noble 
brother  (the  Marquis  of  Huntley),  then  with  his  regiment 
m  Holland.  A  few  days  after  it  was  written,  and  to  the 
author's  great  uneasiness,  the  news  arrived  of  his  being 
wounded,  from  which  he  is  not  yet  recovered." 

Dr  Thomas  Murray,  in  his  Literary  History  of  Gallo- 
way, p.  247,  refers  to  a  MS.  Life  of  Dr  Couper,  «  com- 
municated by  his  accomplished  friend,  John  Black,  Esq., 
Wigton.  On  applying  to  Dr  Murray,  I  was  favoured  with 
the  following  abstract  of  the  memoir:— 

"  Robert  Couper  was  born  at  Balsier,  parish  of  Sor- 
bie,  Wigtonshire,  of  which  farm  his  father  was  tenant,  on 
the  22d  September  1750.  He  entered  a  student  in  Glas- 
gow College  in  1769.  He  studied  at  first  for  the  Scotish 
Church ;  but  his  parents  having  died,  and  his  patrimony 
being  small,  if  any  thing  at  all,  he  accepted  of  an  office  as 
tutor  in  a  family  in  the  State  of  Virginia,  America,  where  he 

2o 


514 


RED  GLEAMS  THE  SUN. 


meant  to  take  orders  to  enter  the  Episcopal  Church  as  a 
clergyman.  The  date  of  his  going  to  America  is  not  given. 
But  he  returned  in  1776,  owing  to  the  breaking  out  of  the 
war  of  Independence.  He  returned  to  the  College  of  Glas- 
gow, and  having  studied  medicine,  and  taken  his  diploma 
as  a  surgeon,  (date  not  known,)  he  began  practice  at  New- 
tonstewart,  a  village  of  2000  inhabitants,  in  his  native 
county.  While  at  Glasgow,  he  had  gained  the  friendship 
of  Dr  Hamilton,  professor  of  midwifery,  on  whose  recom- 
mendation to  the  Duke  of  Gordon,  Couper  settled  in  Foch- 
abers (I  am  informed,  in  1788),  as  physician  to  his  Grace. 
Previously  to  going  there,  and  preparatory  to  it,  he  had 
obtained  the  degree  of  M.  D.  from  the  College  of  Glas- 
gow, to  c  prevent  people,  no  wiser  than  himself,  from  dic- 
tating to  him.'  At  this  time,  that  is,  shortly  after  settling 
in  Fochabers,  he  married  Miss  Stott,  daughter  of  the  Rev. 
Ebenezer  Stott,  minister  of  the  parish  of  MinnigafF,  Kirk- 
cudbrightshire. He  left  Fochabers  in  1806.  He  died  in 
Wigton  on  the  18th  January  1818.    He  was  F.  R.  S.  E." 

DVI. 

WHERE  ESK  ITS  SILVER  CURRENT  LEADS. 

The  author  of  this  Song  was  David  Carey,  who  was 
known  during  the  earlier  part  of  this  century  as  "an  elegant 
poet  and  agreeable  novelist."  He  was  a  native  of  Arbroath, 
and  he  died  at  his  father's  house,  in  that  town,  after  a  pro- 
tracted illness,  on  the  4th  of  October  1824,  in  the  forty- 
second  year  of  his  age.  A  brief  but  interesting  biographical 
notice,  and  a  list  of  his  various  works,  will  be  found  in  the 
Scots  Magazine,  for  November  1824,  p.  637. 

dviii. 

ROW  SAFTLY,  THOU  STREAM. 

The  collection  of  Poems  and  Songs,  by  Richard  Gall, 
(the  author  of  this  and  other  Songs  in  the  present  volume 
of  the  Museum,)  which  is  mentioned  by  Mr  S.  at  page  444, 


ROW  SAFTLY,  THOU  STREAM. 


515 


bears  the  date  "  Edinburgh,  from  the  press  of  Oliver  and 
Boyd,"  1819.  12mo. 

DX. 

O  CHERUB  CONTENT. 

This  early  production  of  a  poet  who  has  attained  such 
high  distinction  as  the  author  of  "  The  Pleasures  of  Hope," 
is  not  contained  in  the  collected  edition  of  his  Poems. 
Thomas  Campbell,  Esq.,  is  a  native  of  Glasgow,  and 
was  born  in  the  year  1777,  as,  I  think,  he  stated  two 
years  ago,  at  a  public  dinner  given  him  in  this  place.  His 
"  Hohenlinden,"  "  Ye  Mariners  of  England,"  and  other 
compositions,  rank  him  as  a  lyric  poet  of  the  first  order. 

DXII. 

THE  BATTLE  OF  HARLAW. 

This  well-known  ballad,  or  poem,  is  probably  not  older 
than  the  latter  part  of  the  16  th  century.  There  was  an 
edition  printed  in  the  year  1668,  which  Ramsay  prob- 
ably copied,  when  he  inserted  the  poem  in  "  The  Ever- 
green," 1724. 

DXIII. 
O  BOTHWELL  BANK. 

This  Song  was  evidently,  or  rather  avowedly,  founded 
upon  an  interesting  incident  related  in  Verstegan's  "  Resti- 
tution of  Decayed  Intelligence,"  first  published  at  Ant- 
werp, 1605. 

In  Pinkerton's  Select  Scotish  Ballads,  vol.  ii.  p.  131. 
Lond.  1783,  where  this  Song  first  appeared,  it  consists  of 
three  stanzas,  disfigured  by  an  affected  use  of  obsolete 
words.    The  first  stanza  is  descriptive,  and  runs  thus  : — 

On  the  blyth  Beltane,  as  I  went 

Be  mysel  attour  the  green  bent, 

Wharby  the  crystal  waves*  of  Clyde 

Throch  saughs  and  hanging  hazels  glyde, 

There  sadly  sitting  on  a  brae, 

I  heard  a  damsel  speak  her  wae. 

The  other  two  verses  are  given  in  the  Musical  Museum, 


51G 


O  BOTHWELL  BANK. 


some  of  the  words  being  modernized,  and  two  lines  added  to 
suit  the  music.  Pinkerton's  imitations  of  our  old  ballad 
poetry,  were  not  happy.  In  the  account  of  his  writings 
given  in  Chambers's  Lives  of  Eminent  Scotsmen,  we  meet, 
indeed,  with  the  following  astounding  assertion  respecting 
his  publication  of  Ancient  Scotish  Poems,  from  Sir  Richard 
Maitland's  MSS. — "  Pinkerton  maintained  that  he  had 
found  the  Manuscript  in  the  Pepysian  Library  at  Cam- 
bridge ;  and,  in  his  correspondence,  he  sometimes  alludes 
to  the  circumstances  with  very  admirable  coolness.  The 

FORGERY  WAS  ONE  OF  THE  MOST  AUDACIOUS  RECORDED  IN 

the  annals  of  transcribing.  Time,  place,  and  cir- 
cumstances, were  all  minutely  stated — there  was  no  mys- 
tery." (vol.  iv.  p.  102.)  I  confess  my  ignorance  of  what  is 
here  meant  by  "  the  Annals  of  Transcribing,"  unless,  per- 
chance, it  may  have  some  allusion  to  the  learned  Mr 
Penny,  the  "  Historian  of  Linlithgowshire,"  whose  accu- 
racy and  minute  research  were  so  highly  commended  by  his 
literary  executors  in  1831,  although,  it  must  be  admitted, 
that  the  merit  of  his  work  consists  wholly  in  the  accuracy 
with  which  he  transcribed  that  portion  of  Chalmers's  "  Cale- 
donia," which  relates  to  the  Shire.  In  regard  to  Pinkerton, 
it  would  have  been  strange  had  he  pretended  any  "  mys- 
tery" where  there  was  none;  as  the  MSS.  in  question 
may  be  seen  in  the  Pepysian  Library  to  this  day.  Some 
half  century  after  this,  it  is  as  probable  that  the  future 
biographer  of  Mr  Robert  Chambers  shall  attribute  to  him 
all  Burns's  Poems,  contained  in  his  late  comprehensive 
edition  of  that  poet,  as  that  any  one  should  have  given  Pin- 
kerton the  credit  of  having  written  the  poems  by  Henry- 
son,  Dunbar,  and  the  other  old  Scotish  Makers,  contained 
in  Maitland's  Manuscript  Collections,  from  which  Pinker- 
ton's  Selections,  printed  in  1782,  were  copied.  After  all, 
it  ought  to  be  added,  that  the  contributor  of  the  article  in 
Chambers's  Work,  merely  improves  upon  the  similar  blun- 
dering statement  that  appeared  in  Nichols's  Literary  Il- 
lustrations, &c,  vol.  v.  p.  670. 


O  BOTHWELL  BANK. 


517 


John  Pinkerton  was  born  at  Edinburgh,  17th  of  Feb- 
ruary 1758,  and  died  at  Paris,  10th  of  March  1825,  at 
the  age  of  sixty-seven.  With  all  his  insufferable  petulance 
and  conceit,  (not  to  mention  other  failings,)  he  was  un- 
questionably a  man  of  learning  and  research;  and  he  render- 
ed very  important  services  to  the  history  and  early  litera- 
ture of  his  native  country,  by  several  of  his  publications. 

DXV. 

LAMINGTON  RACES. 

This  Song  is  attributed,  at  page  456,  to  "  Mr  Macaulay, 
an  acquaintance  of  Mr  Johnson,"  the  publisher  of  the  Mu- 
seum. I  have  not  ascertained  who  this  Mr  M.  was  ;  but  it 
is  not  improbable  that  he  was  the  same  with  James  Mac- 
aulay, printer  in  Edinburgh,  the  author  of  a  volume  of 
"  Poems  on  various  subjects,  in  Scots  and  English." — 
"  Edinburgh,  printed  for  and  sold  by  the  Author,  Print- 
ing-office, Castlehill,  1790,"  12mo.  pp.  300. 

DXVI. 

THE  BANKS  OF  THE  DEE. 

This  Song  was  long  and  deservedly  popular.  As  stated 
at  page  456,  it  was  written  in  1775,  and  it  appeared  in 
several  collections.  In  64  The  Goldfinch,"  Edinb.  1782,  it 
is  accompanied  "  With  additions  by  a  Lady,"  being  four 
stanzas,  no  doubt  the  same  that  Mr  S.  notices  as  contain- 
ed in  Wilson's  collection,  1779,  and  there  said  to  be  by 
"  Miss  Betsy  B— s." 

The  author  of  "  The  Banks  of  the  Dee,"  was  John 
Tait,  Esq.,  who  had  been  an  assiduous  wooer  of  the  muses 
in  his  younger  days.  Besides  the  frequent  contributions  to 
the  Poets'  Corner,  signed  J.  T — t,  consisting  of  elegiac  and 
other  verses,  which  appeared  in  Ruddiman's  Edinburgh 
Weekly  Magazine  for  1770,  and  subsequent  years,  he  pub- 
lished anonymously,  the  "  Cave  of  Morar,"  "  Poetical 
Legends,"  and  some  other  poems,  in  a  separate  form.  Mr 


518 


THE  BANKS  OF  THE  DEE. 


Tait  passed  as  Writer  to  the  Signet,  21st  November  1781. 
In  July  1805,  when  the  new  system  of  police  was  intro- 
duced into  Edinburgh,  he  was  appointed  Judge  of  Police, 
and  he  continued  to  preside  in  that  Court  till  July  1812; 
when  it  was  again  remodelled  by  Act  of  Parliament,  and 
the  decision  of  Police  cases  replaced  in  the  hands  of  the 
Magistrates  of  the  City.  (See  Kay's  Portraits,  vol.  ii.  p. 
147.)  He  died  at  his  house  in  Abercrombie  Place,  29th  of 
August  1817.    (Scots  Mag.  1817,  p.  99.) 

DXXV. 

willy's  rare  and  willy's  fair. 
This  song  is  contained  in  the  second  volume  of  the 
Orpheus  Caledonius,  1733,  and  not  in  the  first  volume, 
1725.  So  likewise  is  Hamilton's  ballad,  "  The  Braes  of 
Yarrow."  This  favourite  theme  in  Scotish  Song,  has 
obtained  additional  celebrity  by  the  verses  of  our  great 
English  Poet,  Mr  Wordsworth,  who  to  his  "  Yarrow  Un- 
visited,"  in  1803,  "  and  Yarrow  Visited,"  in  1814,  again 
honoured  this  much  favoured  stream  by  his  "  Yarrow  Re- 
visited," in  1831. 

DXXIX. 

AH  !  MARY  !  SWEETEST  MAID,  FAREWELL. 

This  song  was  included  in  a  small  volume  of  "  Songs, 
chiefly  in  the  Scottish  dialect.  Edinburgh,  1803,"  8vo, 
published  anonymously,  in  which  the  songs  were  given  in 
a  more  correct  form,  in  consequence  of  several  of  them 
having  been  printed  "  without  the  Author's  permission,  and 
with  alterations,  which  he  did  not  consider  as  improve- 
ments." The  author  of  this  and  two  other  songs  in  this 
volume,  (See  pages  435  and  512,)  Sir  Alexander  Bos- 
well  of  Auchinleck,  was  the  eldest  son  of  the  biographer 
of  Johnson,  and  was  born  9th  of  October  1775.  He  suc- 
ceeded to  his  paternal  estate  in  1795,  and  was  created  a 
Baronet  in  1821.    At  a  time  when  party  politics  ran  high, 


ah!  mary!  sweetest  maid,  farewell.  519 


his  disposition  to  satirical  writing  unfortunately  involved  him 
in  a  dispute,  which  was  the  occasion  of  that  fatal  duel,  26th 
of  March  1822,  that  cut  off  in  the  prime  of  life,  a  gentleman 
of  much  natural  genius  and  high  acquirements,  only  a  few 
days  after  having  performed  the  last  sad  offices  to  his  brother 
James,  the  friend  of  Malone,  and  the  editor  of  Shakspeare. 
Some  affecting  lines,  written  on  the  death  of  his  brother,  were 
found  in  Sir  Alexander's  pocket-book  after  his  own  death. 

Sir  A.'s  love  of  literature  was  exemplified  by  the  republica- 
tion of  many  rare  and  curious  works,  for  private  circulation, 
from  his  press  at  Auchinleck,  of  which  a  full  list  is  given 
by  Mr  Martin,  in  his  4 4  Bibliographical  Catalogue  of  Books. 
Privately  printed."    Lond.  1834,  8vo. 

DXXXVI. 
WILLIAM  AND  MARGARET. 

44  A  gentleman  of  universal  erudition  lately  showed  me 
a  MS.  copy  of  the  above,  with  a  notice  prefixed,  that  it 

was  composed  on — 4  Sharp,  and  Gregory's  Daughter/  

most  probably  a  descendant  of  Archbishop  Sharp,  and  a 
lady  of  the  learned  house  of  Gregory,  for  some  time  settled 
at  St  Andrew's. 

44  I  may  mention  here,  that  Mallet's  song,  4  A  youth 
adorned  with  every  art' — was  composed  on  the  ill-fated 
loves  of  Lady  Jean  Hume,  daughter  of  Alexander,  seventh 
Earl  of  Home,  and  Lord  Robert  Kerr,  killed  in  the  bloom 
of  youth,  and  extraordinary  personal  attractions,  at  the 
battle  of  Culloden.  Susanna  Kennedy,  Countess  of  Eglin- 
toune,  used  to  sing  this  pretty  ballad,  and  relate  its  origin; 
she  was  well  acquainted  with  both  the  parties. 

44  The  music  of  this  song  was  composed  by  Oswald."  

(C.  K.  S.) 

The  editor  of  Andrew  Marvell's  works,  Lond.  1776,  in  the 
Preface  (vol.  i.  p.  xx),  refers  to  a  MS.  volume  of  44  Mar- 
vell's Poems,  some  written  with  his  own  hand,  and  the  rest 
copied  by  his  order,"  among  which  was  a  copy  of  this 


520 


WILLIAM  AND  MARGARET. 


well-known  ballad.  He  accordingly  claimed  it  for  Mar- 
vell,  charging  Mallet  with  gross  plagiarism.  "  I  am 
sorry  this  truth  (he  adds)  did  not  appear  sooner,  that  the 
Scots  Bard  might  have  tried  to  defend  himself ;  but  now 
the  jackdaw  must  be  stripped  of  his  stolen  plumage,  and 
the  fine  feathers  must  be  restored  to  the  real  peacock." 
Notwithstanding  this  bold  assertion,  (and,  upon  the  same 
grounds,  he  claims  for  Marvell  some  undoubted  composi- 
tions by  Addison,)  it  is  perfectly  evident  that  the  MS.  he 
refers  to,  must  have  contained  a  number  of  pieces  transcrib- 
ed forty  years  subsequent  to  Marvell's  death  Allan  Ram- 
say wrote  a  poetical  address  to  Mr  David  Malloch  on  his 
departure  from  Scotland  (Poems,  vol.  ii.  p.  402),  in  which 
he  specially  mentions  "his  tender  strains,"  in  this  ballad  of 
William  and  Margaret. 

Gibbon,  in  the  Memoirs  of  his  own  life,  mentions,  that 
about  the  time  when  he  professed  himself  a  Roman  Catholic, 
he  had  resided  for  some  time  with  Mallet,  "  by  whose 
philosophy  I  was  rather  scandalized  than  reclaimed."  There 
are  some  curious  anecdotes  respecting  his  irreligion,  in 
Davies's  life  of  Garrick. 

DXL. 
O  TELL  ME,  &C. 

The  song  by  Mr  Graham  of  Gartmore  need  not  be 
quoted  here,  from  a  work  so  well  known  as  the  Minstrelsy 
of  the  Scottish  Border.  When  first  published  by  Sir 
Walter  Scott,  he  considered  it  to  be  a  traditional  version  of  a 
song  of  the  age  of  Charles  I. ;  and  he  afterwards  remarked, 
that  the  verses  "  have  much  of  the  romantic  expression  of 
passion  common  to  the  poets  of  that  period,  whose  lays 
still  reflected  the  setting  beams  of  chivalry."  Curious 
enough,  however,  in  a  collection  published  by  John  Ross, 
Organist  in  Aberdeen,  the  song  is  given  as  written  "  by 
Mr  Jeffreys."  There  is  no  reason,  however,  to  doubt,  that 
Sir  Walter  was  correct  in  subsequently  assigning  it  to  Mr 


O  TELL  ME,  &C. 


521 


Graham,  of  whom  the  following  is  a  brief  notice,  obligingly- 
communicated  by  Sir  John  Graham  Dalyell,  Kt.,  who  is 
his  nephew  on  the  mother's  side.  (See  Douglas's  Peerage, 
by  Wood,  vol.  i.  p.  639.) 

"  Robert  Graham  of  Gartmore,  was  the  son  of  Nicol 
Graham  of  Gartmore,  by  Lady  Margaret  Cunningham, 
eldest  daughter  of  William,  twelfth  Earl  of  Glencairn. 
After  discharging  the  office  of  Receiver- General  of  the 
Revenue  of  the  island  of  Jamaica,  he  returned  to  Scotland 
on  the  decease  of  his  elder  brother,  William,  and  succeeded 
his  father  in  his  estates,  in  the  year  1775  :  and,  on  the  de- 
mise of  John,  the  last  Earl  of  Glencairn,  he  succeeded  to 
the  estates  of  Finlayston.  Mr  Graham  was  a  man  of  refined 
taste,  and  of  a  patriotic  disposition ;  he  warmly  encouraged 
the  reform  so  long  projected  of  the  royal  boroughs,  and  re- 
presented the  county  of  Stirling  in  Parliament  (in  1794). 
Having  been  elected  Rector  of  the  University  of  Glasgow, 
he  bestowed  some  testimony  of  liberality  in  its  favour, 
which  he  was  the  better  enabled  to  do  from  his  ample  for- 
tune. Mr  Graham  married  first,  a  sister  of  Sir  John  Tay- 
lor, baronet,  by  whom  he  had  two  sons  and  two  daugh- 
ters. Secondly,  a  lady  alike  beautiful  and  amiable,  Eliza- 
beth, eldest  daughter  of  Thomas  Buchanan  of  Leny ;  whose 
son,  the  late  Dr  Francis  Hamilton  Buchanan,  was  recog- 
nised as  chief  of  the  family  of  Buchanan."— Mr  Graham  of 
Gartmore  died  the  11th  of  December  1797. 

DXLI. 

WHAT  AILS  THIS  HEART  OF  MINE. 

In  the  Scots  Magazine,  for  February  1803,  there  is  in- 
serted another  excellent  song,  entitled  "  The  Nabob.  By 
the  late  Miss  Blamire,  Carlisle,"  to  the  tune  of  Auld 
Langsyne.    It  begins, 

When  silent  time,  with  lightly  foot 

Had  trode  on  thirty  years, 
I  sought  again  my  native  land 

With  many  hopes  and  fears  : 


522 


WHAT  AILS  THIS  HEART  OF  MINE. 


Wha  kens  gin  the  dear  friends  I  left 

May  still  continue  mine, 
Or  gin  I  e'er  again  shall  taste 

The  joys  I  left  langsyne. 

Miss  Susannah  Blamire  was  a  native  of  Cumberland, 
and  was  born  at  Thackwood-nook,  in  the  parish  of  Sowerby. 
She  died  at  Carlisle  in  1795,  aged  49,  and  lies  interred 
at  Roughton  Head,  near  Rose  Castle.  Her  nephew,  Wil- 
liam Blamire,  Esq.,  lately  one  of  the  Members  of  Parlia- 
ment for  Cumberland,  possesses  the  patrimonial  estate 
called  The  Oakes,  a  beautiful  property  about  three  miles 
from  Carlisle ;  and  Rose  Castle  is  possessed  by  her  aunt. 
For  this  information  I  am  indebted  to  Patrick  Maxwell, 
Esq.,  who  is  forming  a  collection  of  her  poems.  Mr  M. 
adds,  that  "  Miss  Blamire  was  very  affable  to  the  poor  and 
the  peasantry  about  her,  and  that  she  was  generally  ad- 
dressed in  their  provincial  manner  by  the  title  of  Miss 
Sukey" 

DXLIII. 
ROBIN  SHURE  IN  HAIRST* 

"  «  Written  for  this  work,  by  Robert  Burns.'  This  is 
probably  wrong ;  or  Burns  suppressed  the  last  stanza,  to 
be  found  in  the  stall  copies,  besides  substituting  "  three 
goose  feathers  and  whittle,"  for  the  indecent  line  in  the 
third :  it  is  likely  that  he  only  altered  the  song  for  the 
Museum,  making  it  applicable  to  himself  as  an  author,  by 
the  three  goose  quills  and  the  pen-knife.  The  last  stanza 
begins : 

"  Now  I'm  Robin's  bride,  free  frae  kirk  fo'ks  bustle, 
Robin's  a'  my  ain,  wi's,  &c,  &c.,  &c." — (C.  K.  S.) 

DXL1V. 
MAGGY  LAUDER. 

The  late  Mr  William  Motherwell  had  made  some  collec- 
tions for  an  edition  of  the  Poems  attributed  to  the  Semples 
of  Beltrees.    As  his  papers  are  still  in  the  hands  of  his 


MAGGY  LAUDER. 


523 


friend,  Mr  P.  A.  Ramsay,  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  the  pro- 
ject will  not  be  abandoned. 

My  good  friend,  William  Tennant,  Esq.,  the  author 
of  the  inimitable  poem  of  "  Anster  Fair,"  mentioned  at  page 
478,  as  then  newly  appointed  Teacher,  or  Professor  of 
Languages  in  Dollar  Academy,  has  since  (in  1835)  ob- 
tained higher  and  more  congenial  preferment,  as  Professor 
of  Oriental  Languages  in  St  Mary's  College,  St  Andrew's — 
an  appointment  alike  honourable  to  the  patrons  and  to 
himself,  as  the  reward  of  learning  and  genius. — A  short 
Memoir  of  Professor  Tennant  is  prefixed  to  Chambers's  late 
edition  of  « «  Anster  Fair,"  Edinb.  1838,  8vo. 

"  In  former  times,  the  singers  of  this  ditty  used  to  in- 
form their  audience  that  Maggie  was  at  last  burnt  for  a 
witch  ;  I  could  never  find  her  name  in  any  lists  of  Satan's 
Seraglio  which  I  have  had  an  opportunity  of  inspecting. 

"  Some  amusing  verses  were  said  to  have  been  composed 
to  this  air,  by  a  very  eccentric  person,  Lady  Dick  of  Pres- 
tonfield :  before  the  reader  peruses  them,  a  short  account 
may  be  given  of  the  reputed  authoress.  She  was  the  daugh- 
ter of  Lord  Royston,  a  Lord  of  Session,  son  of  the  Earl 
of  Cromarty,  and  the  wife  of  Sir  William  Dick,  with  whom 
she  did  not  live  on  the  best  of  terms,  having  a  high  spirit, 
much  satirical  wit,  and  no  children  to  endear  their  conjugal 
union.  Her  strange  fancies  and  frolics  were  well  remem- 
bered fifty  years  ago ;  and  that  with  considerable  spleen,  as 
she  made  herself  many  enemies  by  the  lampoons  she  was  in 
the  habit  of  composing.  Among  her  other  odd  freaks,  she 
took  it  into  her  head  to  enact  the  she-Petrarch  to  Sir  Peter 
Murray  of  Balmanno,  whose  perfections  she  celebrated  in 
several  other  copies  of  verses,  besides  the  subjoined  song — 
two  of  these  have  been  printed  in  a  small  ballad  book,  de- 
dicated to  Sir  Walter  Scott.  There  seems  to  have  been 
nothing  criminal  in  her  admiration,  as  she  made  no  secret 
of  her  poetical  effusions— but  those  whom  she  had  offended 
by  poems  of  a  different  stamp,  were  naturally  eager  enough 


524 


MAGGY  LAUDER. 


to  put  the  worst  constructions  on  her  mirth,  and  pretended 
to  take  seriously  what  was  only  meant  in  jest.  Lady  Dick 
died  in  the  year  1741.  There  is  a  half-length  portrait  of 
her  at  Prestonfield,  not  handsome,  and  ill  painted.  Her 
Adonis,  Sir  Peter,  married  in  1751,  Anne,  daughter  of 
Alexander  Hay  of  Drummelzier."-_(C.  K.  S.) 

Tune — Maggy  Lauder. 
On  Tweedside  dwells  a  gallant  swain, 

The  darling  o'  the  women ; 
Whene'er  he  makes  his  entering  bow, 

With  joy  their  eyes  are  swimming. 
Tho'  gallant  he,  yet  snug  his  heart, 

He  only  plays  with  Cupid, 
For  as  Minerva  guides  the  youth 

He  never  can  be  stupid. 
Tho'  gallant  he,  yet  snug  his  heart, 

He  only  plays  with  Cupid, 
For  reason  tames  his  passions ;  thus 

He  never  can  be  duped. 

O,  when  he  dances  at  a  ball, 

He's  rarely  worth  the  seeing ; 
So  light  he  trips,  you  would  him  take 

For  some  aerial  being  ! 
While  pinky  winky  go  his  een, 

How  blest  is  each  bystander  ; 
How  gracefully  he  leads  the  fair, 

When  to  her  seat  he  hands  her  ! 
While  pinky  winky  go  his  een, 

How  blest  is  each  bystander ! 
More  conquests  he  is  said  to  make 

Than  e'er  did  Alexander. 

But  when  in  accents  saft  and  sweet 

He  chants  forth  Lizzy  Baillie, 
His  dying  looks  and  attitude 

Enchant ;  they  cannot  fail  ye. 
The  loveliest  widow  in  the  land, 

When  she  could  scarce  disarm  him, 
Alas,  the  belles  in  Roxburghshire 

Must  never  hope  to  charm  him. 


O  happy,  happy,  happy  she, 
Could  make  him  change  his  plan,  sir, 


MAGGY  LAUDER. 


525 


And  of  this  rigid  bachelor 

Convert  the  married  man,  sir. 
O  happy,  and  thrice  happy  she 

Could  make  him  change  his  plan,  sir. 
And  to  the  gentle  Benedick, 

Convert  the  single  man,  sir. 

How  could  the  lovely  Roman  give 

To  Michael  all  her  beauty, 
When  Peter's  such  a  worthy  saint, 

To  whom  she  owed  her  duty  ! 
How  could  the  lovely  Roman  let 

That  Michael  take  possession ; 
Nor  angel  he,  nor  saint,  nor  yet 

An  embryo  Lord  of  Session. 

The  lady  to  whom  the  above  verses  are  assigned,  was 
Anne  Mackenzie,  daughter  of  the  Hon.  Sir  James  Macken- 
zie, a  Senator  of  the  College  of  Justice,  under  the  title  of 
Lord  Royston  (and  third  son  of  George,  first  Earl  of  Cro- 
martie),  by  Elizabeth,  daughter  of  Sir  George  Mackenzie 
of  Rosehaugh,  Lord  Advocate  in  the  reign  of  Charles  the 
Second.  As  stated  above,  she  became  Lady  Dick  by  mar- 
riage. In  the  Scots  Magazine  for  September  1741,  (p. 
431,)  where  her  death  is  recorded,  she  is  simply  styled 
"  The  Lady  of  Sir  William  Dick  of  Corstorphine." 

DXLV. 
A  COGGIE  OF  ALE. 

Andrew  Shirrefs,  A.  M.,  was  a  bookbinder  in  Aberdeen. 
Burns,  in  the  notes  of  his  Northern  Tour,  mentions  having 
seen  him,  and  calls  him  "  a  little  decrepid  body,  with  some 
abilities."  He  is  best  known  as  the  author  of  "  Jamie 
and  Bess,  or  the  Laird  in  Disguise,  a  Scots  Pastoral 
Comedy,  in  imitation  of  the  Gentle  Shepherd.',  It  was 
first  printed  at  Aberdeen,  1787,  12mo,  and  was  frequently 
performed  at  different  theatres  in  the  country.  In  the  de- 
dication «  To  the  Honourable  the  County  Club  of  Aber- 
deenshire," the  author  says,  "  he  never  was,  and  probably 


526 


A  COGGIE  OF  ALE. 


never  will  be,  without  the  limits  of  their  county."  As 
stated,  however,  at  page  479,  Shirrefs  migrated  to  the 
South  in  1798,  but  whether  he  spent  the  rest  of  his  life 
at  London,  and  when  or  where  he  died,  I  have  not  been 
able  to  ascertain. 

DXLVIII. 
THE  BLUE  BELLS  OF  SCOTLAND. 

"  Mr  Ritson,  in  his  6  North  Country  Chorister,'  gives 
the  older  words  of  this  ballad,  beginning — «  There  was  a 
Highland  laddie  courted  a  Lowland  lass' — and  adds,  6  this 
song  has  been  lately  introduced  upon  the  stage  by  Mrs 
Jordan,  who  knew  neither  the  words  nor  the  tune;'  but 
there  is  another  set  of  words,  probably  as  old,  which  I 
transcribed  from  a  4to  collection  of  songs  in  MS.  made  by 
a  lady  upwards  of  seventy  years  ago.'" — (C.  K.  S.) 

O,  fair  maid,  whase  aught  that  bonny  bairn, 

O,  fair  maid,  whase  aught  that  bonny  bairn  ? 

It  is  a  sodger's  son,  she  said,  that's  lately  gone  to  Spain, 

Te  dilly  dan,  te  dilly  dan,  te  dilly,  dilly  dan. 

O,  fair  maid,  what  was  that  sodger's  name  ? 
O,  fair,  &c. 

In  troth  a'tweel,  I  never  speird — the  mair  I  was  to  blame. 
Te  dilly  dan,  &c. 

O,  fair  maid,  what  had  that  sodger  on  ? 
O,  fair,  &c. 

A  scarlet  coat  laid  o'er  wi'  gold,  a  waistcoat  o'  the  same. 
Te  dilly  dan,  &c. 

O,  fair  maid,  what  if  he  should  be  slain  ? 
O,  fair,  &c. 

The  king  would  lose  a  brave  sodger,  and  I  a  pretty  man. 
Te  dilly  dan,  &c. 

O,  fair  maid,  what  if  he  should  come  hame  ? 
O,  fair,  &c. 

The  parish  priest  should  marry  us,  the  clerk  should  say  amen. 
Te  dilly  dan,  &c. 


THE  BLUE  BELLS  OF  SCOTLAND. 


527 


O,  fair  maid,  would  ye  that  sodger  ken  ? 
O,  fair,  &c. 

In  troth  a'tweel,  an'  that  I  wad,  among  ten  thousand  men. 
Te  dilly,  &c. 

O,  fair  maid,  what  if  I  be  the  man  ? 
O,  fair,  &c. 

In  troth  a'tweel,  it  may  be  so  j  I'se  haud  ye  for  the  same. 
Te  dilly  dan,  te  dilly  dan,  te  dilly,  dilly  dan. 

The  song,  by  the  late  Mrs  Grant,  referred  to  at  p.  480, 
is  too  well  known  to  be  quoted  in  this  place.  This  lady, 
Anne  Mac  vicar,  was  born  at  Glasgow  in  1755,  was  mar- 
ried to  the  Rev.  James  Grant,  minister  of  Laggan,  in  1779, 
whom  she  survived  many  years,  and  died  at  Edinburgh,  7th 
of  November  1838,  in  the  84th  year  of  her  age.  A  detail- 
ed notice  of  her  life  and  writings,  which  originally  appear- 
ed in  the  Edinburgh  newspapers,  will  be  found  in  the 
Gentleman's  Magazine  for  January  1839,  p.  97. 

DLIII. 

THE  FEINT  A  CRUM  OF  THEE  SHE  FAWS. 

This  ancient  song,  Return  hameward,  &c,  says  Mr  S., 
was  revised  by  Allan  Ramsay,  and  printed  in  the  Tea- Table 
Miscellany,  1724.  It  was  likewise  included  in  "  The 
Evergreen,"  by  Ramsay,  who  had  used  undue  freedoms  in 
altering  the  original  verses,  which  were  the  production  of 
Alexander  Scott,  a  poet  who  flourished  about  the  middle 
of  the  sixteenth  century,  and  who  has  been  styled  the  Ana- 
creon  of  Scotland.  See  edition  of  Scott's  Poems,  p.  100. 
Edinb.  1821,  small  8vo. 

DLVII. 

O  GIN  I  WERE  FAIRLY  SHOT  o'  HER. 

John  Anderson,  music-engraver,  the  writer  of  this  and 
of  some  other  verses,  in  the  last  part  of  the  Museum,  is,  I 
am  informed,  still  living  in  Edinburgh. 


528 


ARGYLE  IS  MY  NAME. 


DLX. 

ARGYLE  IS  MY  NAME. 

"  This  song  is  older  than  the  period  here  assigned  to  it  

and  if  the  name  of  Maggie  is  to  be  trusted,  can  only  apply 
to  the  first  Marquis  of  Argyle,  whose  wife  was  Lady  Mar- 
garet Douglas,  daughter  of  the  Earl  of  Morton.  He  was 
so  very  notorious  a  coward,  that  this  song  could  have  been 
made  by  nobody  but  himself,  unless  to  turn  him  into  ridi- 
cule."— (C.  K.  S.) 

DLXIX. 

HOW  SWEET  THE  LONE  VALE. 

The  Honourable  Andrew  Erskine,  was  the  third  son 
of  Alexander,  fifth  Earl  of  Kellie,  by  his  lady,  who  was  a 
daughter  of  Dr  Pitcairne.    He  was  born  about  the  year 
1739,  and  having  embraced  a  military  life,  he  held  a  lieu- 
tenant's commission  in  the  71st  regiment  of  foot,  as  early, 
at  least,  as  1759.    On  its  being  reduced  in  1763,  he  ex- 
changed from  half-pay  into  the  24th  regiment  of  foot,  then 
quartered  at  Gibraltar.    Previous  to  this,  he  had  carried 
on  a  kind  of  literary  correspondence,  in  verse  as  well  as 
prose,  with  James  Boswell  of  Auchinleck,  Esq.,  which, 
with  that  most  insatiable  desire  for  notoriety  which  cha- 
racterised him,  were  published  by  the  latter,  at  London, 
1763,  8vo,  in  order,  as  it  was  expressed,  to  gratify  "  Curi- 
osity, the  most  prevalent  of  all  our  passions."  Whether 
the  publication  of  these  letters,  in  "  their  present  more 
conspicuous  form,''  raised  the  character  of  the  writers  in 
public  estimation,  we  need  not  stop  to  enquire.    Both  of 
them  were  likewise  principal  contributors  to  Donaldson's 
collection  of  "  Original  Poems,  by  Scots  gentlemen." 
Edin.  1760  and  1762,  2  vol.  12mo.    Mr  Erskine's  "  Town 
Eclogues,"  and  other  poems,  appeared  at  a  later  date.  He 
died  suddenly,  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Edinburgh,  about 
the  end  of  September  1793,  much  lamented.    Mr  George 


HOW  SWl.ET  THE  LONE  VALE. 


529 


Thomson  sent  Burns  an  account  of  his  death,  as  appears 
from  Burns's  reply,  dated  Oct.  1793,  but  the  letter  itself 
was  not  published  by  Dr  Currie. 

His  eldest  brother,  Thomas  Alexander,  sixth  Earl  of 
Kellie,  born  1st  of  September  1732,  who  was  so  distin- 
guished for  his  musical  genius,  was  also  an  occasional  writer 
of  verses.  His  brother  Andrew,  in  1762,  alludes  to  some 
poems  written  by  Lord  Kellie ;  as  in  a  letter  to  Boswell, 
he  says,  "  Donaldson  tells  me  that  he  wants  thirty  or 
forty  pages,  to  complete  his  volume;  pray,  don't  let  him 
insert  any  nonsense  to  fill  it  up,"  (an  advice  that  was  alto- 
gether disregarded;)  "  but  try  John  Home,  and  John 

R[  ?]>  who  I  hear  is  a  very  good  poet ;  you  may  also 

hint  the  thing  to  Mr  N[airne?],  and  to  my  brother  Lord 
K[ellie],  who  has  some  excellent  poems  by  him."  The 
following  Song,  I  have  been  assured  on  good  authority, 
was  written  by  Lord  Kellie.  It  seems,  at  least,  to  have 
been  written  by  some  one  not  a  professed  dealer  in  rhyme. 
It  is  now  first  printed  from  a  MS.  Album,  containing 
Songs  and  Poems,  written  before  the  year  1 780,  in  the  pos- 
session of  Thomas  Mansfield,  Esq.  of  Scatwell. 

KELSO  RACES. 
Tune — Logan  Water. 
1. 

You  have  heard  of  our  sweet  little  races  at  Kelso  ; 
Of  the  riders  and  horses,  and  how  they  all  fell  so, 
Of  Dirleton 1  and  Kelly  Sir  John— and,  what's  still  more, 
The  famed  clerk  of  Green- Cloth,  Sir  Alexander  Gilmore. 

2. 

Of  Dukes  there  were  two,  of  Duchesses  one, 
As  sweet  a  dear  woman  as  e'er  blest  a  man  ; 
Of  mien  most  engaging,  how  finely  she  dances, 
With  her  sister-in-law,  full  of  mirth,  Lady  Frances.2 

1  Nisbet  of  Dirleton. 

2  Lady  Frances  Scott,  afterwards  Lady  Douglas  of  Both  we  11. 

2  p 


530 


KELSO  RACES. 


3. 

His  Grace  of  Buccleugh  would  have  been  most  extatic, 
But,  alas,  he  was  seized  with  a  fit  of  sciatic. 
As  he  could  not  attend  to  make  us  all  mellow, 
He  left  t'other  Duke, 3  a  clever  little  fellow. 

4. 

Of  Nabobs  a  pair,  their  names  shall  have  strait, 
Take  Archibald  Swinton,  and  fat  Thomas  Rait, 
As  fine  jolly  fellows,  I'm  sure  to  the  full, 
As  ever  set  their  faces  to  the  Great  Mogul. 

5. 

The  bald-pated  Knight4  soon  had  them  in  view, 
And  set  at  these  Nabobs  like  an  old  Jew  ; 
Quoth  he  to  himself,  I  think  I  with  ease, 
Could  plunder  these  Indians  of  all  their  rupees. — 

6. 

Gentlemen,  says  he,  will  you  bet  on  a  horse, 
I'll  lay  what  you  please,  without  any  remorse  ; 
If  that  does  not  suit,  I'll  do  what  you  list, 
Perhaps  you  would  choose  a  rubber  at  whist. 

7. 

Down  sat  the  great  dupes,  and  with  them  a  Peer — 
Lord !  how  the  bald  Knight  did  joke  and  did  jeer ; 
The  Nabobs  and  Peer  he  left  not  a  groat, 
And  even  condescended  to  steal  a  great-coat. 

8. 

Young  Nisbet  comes  next,  whom  they  call  Maccaroni,  5 
The  sweet  youth  whom  he  and  we  think  so  bonny, 
That  whene'er  he  appears,  the  ladies  cry  bless  us, 
I  vow  and  protest  he's  a  perfect  Narcissus. 

9. 

My  dearest  sweet  girls,  pray  tell  me  what  mean  ye, 
Cries  his  spruce  little  cousin,  Mr  John  Gantoucini ; 6 
Pray  look  at  me,  a'n't  I  a  fine  little  man, 
A  trig  dapper  fellow,  deny  it  who  can  ? 

10. 

O'  my  drunken  friend  Jock,  I'll  tell  you  a  story  0, 7 
He  had  of  his  own  a  complete  oratorio  ; 

8  Probably  the  Duke  of  Roxburghe.  *  (In  MS.)  Sir  John  Paterson. 

8  Nisbet  of  Dirleton.        •  Mr  John  Nisbet.         7  (In  MS.)  M'Dowell. 


KELSO  RACES. 


Three  hours  after  midnight  his  concert  begun, 
Where  he  drank  and  he  danced  and  he  had  all  his  fun. 

11. 

His  company  consisted  of  Mr  Stewart  Shaw, 
My  Lord  Percy's  piper  who  travels  to  Blair,  (?) 
An  Irish  dear  joy,  two  captains  of  foot, 
And  Lord  North8  the  waiter  who  danced  so  stout. 

12. 

Melvina  appeared  next  like  a  bright  star, 
She  stole  the  heart  of  a  young  man  of  war. 
Of  all  her  solicitors  she  lives  but  for  one, 
And  solicitor  Dundas9  is  the  happy  man. 

13. 

The  great  little  Percy  came  down  from  the  border, 

To  keep  us  poor  Scotch  a  little  in  order  ; 

He  nothing  remarkable  did,  but  we  hope 

Next  year  when  he's  steward,  he'll  take  his  full  scope. 

14. 

There  were  many  more  besides,  well  I  wot, 
Sir  Gilbert  J°  and  Lady,  Miss  Bell  Elliot: 
There  was  sweet  Anne  Scott,  and  Lady  Diana,11 
And  bold  Mrs  Ker,  like  any  hyena. 

15. 

I  cannot  pass  by  were  I  ever  so  brief, 
That  loveliest  of  girls,  Miss  Jeany  MoncriefF: 
To  Kelso  she  came  with  uncle  beau  Skeene, 
Whose  person  is  always  so  neat  and  so  clean. 

16. 

There  was  fat  Sandy  Maxwell  as  big  as  a  tun, 
A  fine  laughing  fellow  in  whom  there's  much  fun  : 
Sir  William  Lorrain,  Jack  Askew,  and  Selby, 
As  fine  jolly  bucks  as  e'er  pint  bottle  fell  by. 

17. 

There  was  John  Scott  of  Gala,  and  Wat  Scott  of  Harden, 
Who  they  say  is  possessed  of  many  a  farthing  ; 

See  Kay's  Portraits  of  Edinburgh  Characters. 

Dundas  of  Arniston,  afterwards  Lord  Chief  Baron. 

>  Sir  Gilbert  Elliot  of  Minto,  his  lady,  and  sister  Isabella. 

1  Lady  Diana  Hume,  who  married  Walter  Scott  of  Harden,  Esq, 


532 


KELSO  RACES. 


And  numbers  more  over— but  I'm  in  a  hurry, 
I  had  almost  forgot  sweet  Peter  Murray. 13 

18. 

We  laught  and  we  danced,  and  we  sat  up  all  night, 
A  thing,  I  confess,  in  which  I  delight. 
But  I  very  dear  my  pleasure  did  earn, 
For  I  was  obliged  to  return  to  Blanearn. 

On  the  subject  of  Lord  Kellie's  musical  genius,  it  may 
be  sufficient  to  refer  to  the  elegant  collection  of  his  Minuets, 
published  by  Charles  Kirkpatrick  Sharpe,  Esq.,  Edinburgh, 
1836,  4to.  The  Hon.  Henry  Erskine,  (brother  of  the 
late  Earl  of  Buchan,)in  an  unpublished  poem,  written  about 
the  year  1772,  has  paid  the  following  compliment  to  his 
Lordship's  musical  genius.  It  is  entitled  "  The  Musical 
Instruments,  a  Fable," — when  the  claims  of  the  Fiddle,  to 
pre-eminence,  are  thus  stated : — 

'Twas  he  that  still  employ'd  the  master's  hand, 
Follow'd  obsequious  by  the  list'ning  band, 
Nay,  swore  that  Kelly  learnt  from  him  his  art 
To  rule,  with  magic  sounds,  the  human  heart. 

DLXXV. 

SAW  YE  THE  THANE  O'  MEIKLE  PRIDE. 

In  the  collected  edition  of  Mr  Mackenzie's  Works,  (vol. 
viii.  p.  1,)  printed  at  Edinburgh,  1808,  8  vols.  8vo,  the 
author  gives  this  account  of  the  ballad  : — 

"  DUNCAN  :  A  FRAGMENT,  FROM  AN  OLD  SCOTS  MANU- 
SCRIPT. 

u  The  following  ballad  was  an  almost  extempore  pro- 
duction, written  when  I  was  a  mere  lad,  in  imitation  of  the 
abrupt  and  laconic  description  of  the  ancient  Scottish 
ballad,  some  of  which  had  been  collected  and  published  at 
that  time.  It  was  sent,  under  the  above  title,  to  the  editor 
of  The  London  Chronicle,  who  published  it  without  any 


Sir  Peter  Murray,  vide  page  *523. 


SAW  YE  THE  THANE  O*  MEIKLE  PRIDE.  533 

comment ;  and  such  was  the  state  of  politics  at  the  time,, 
that  some  of  his  readers  objected  to  the  first  line, 
Saw  ye  the  Thane  o*  meikle  pride, 

as  applying  personally  to  Lord  Bute,  who  used  to  be  known 
by  that  appellation.  It  was  afterwards  inserted  in  Clark's 
(Herd's)  Collection  of  Ancient  Scottish  Ballads,  as  genuine, 
though  one  should  have  thought  the  imitation  was  so  inar- 
tificial as  might  have  saved  it  from  the  sin  of  forgery." 

Mr  Mackenzie  dates  it  1762.  It  was  also  inserted  in 
the  Edinburgh  Advertiser,  April  1764,  No.  575.  This 
copy  contains  the  following  lines,  omitted  in  the  above 
edition,  but  which,  as  necessary  for  the  sense,  should  be 
restored.    They  come  in  before  the  last  verse,  at  page  6. 

Wou'd  then  my  uncle  force  my  love, 

Whar  love  it  wou'd  na  be  ? 
Or  wed  me  to  the  man  I  hate  ? 

Was  this  your  care  of  me  ? 
Can  these  brave  men,  &c. 

Henry  Mackenzie,  Esq.,  best  known  by  the  title  of  his 
most  popular  work,  as  <£  The  Man  of  Feeling,*'  was  born 
at  Edinburgh,  in  August  1745,  where  he  died  on  the  14th 
of  January  1831,  at  the  venerable  age  of  86.  An  excel- 
lent sketch  of  his  life,  by  Sir  Walter  Scott,  is  included 
in  his  Miscellaneous  Prose  Works,  vol.  iv.  Edin.  1834, 
12mo. 

DLXXVII. 

bruce's  address  to  his  army. 
In  the  additional  note  to  song  clxx.,  at  page  *215,  it  is 
stated  that  Gordon  of  Straloch's  MS.  Lute  Book,  1627, 
preserves  the  old  tune,  "  The  Day  Dawis,"  but  that  it  bears 
no  resemblance  to  that  air,  (under  any  of  its  different  titles 
of  "  Hey,  now  the  day  daws,"  "  Hey,  tuttie,  tattle,'*  or 
"  The  land  of  the  leal,")  which,  on  mere  conjecture,  has 
been  assigned  to  the  age  of  Robert  the  Bruce.  The 
earliest  reference  to  any  of  these  tunes  is  by  Dunbar,  who 
alludes  to  the  common  minstrels  of  the  town  of  Edinburgh, 


534 


druce's  address  to  his  army. 


(that  is,  to  the  town's  pipers),  in  the  reign  of  James  the 
Fourth,  as  having  only  two  hackneyed  tunes,  which  were 
played,  no  doubt,  at  an  early  hour,  to  rouse  the  inhabitants 
to  their  daily  occupations. 

Your  commone  Menstralis  has  no  tone, 

But  "  Now  the  day  daws,"  and  "  Into  June." 

It  is  very  probable  that  there  might  have  been  two  dif- 
ferent airs  under  that  name;  at  least  the  following  air, 
which  is  here  subjoined  from  Gordon's  Manuscript,  1627, 
has  more  the  character  of  an  artificial  tune,  than  of  a  simple 
melody,  and  it  is  not  unlikely  that  it  may  have  been  com- 
posed by  some  of  the  musicians  at  the  Scotish  Court  du- 
ring the  minority  of  James  the  Sixth,  to  suit  Montgomery's 
Song,  the  words  of  which  the  Reader  will  find  in  this  work 
at  page  163. 

THE  DAY  DAWIS. 


THE  ItAIN  RINS  DOWN  THRO*  MIRRYLAND  TOWN.  535 


DLXXXII.  ^ 
THE  RAIN  RINS  DOWN  THRO*  MIRRYLAND  TOWN. 

A  curious  volume  has  been  lately  published  at  Paris, 
containing,  along  with  an  Anglo-Norman  ballad  of  the  13th 
century,  on  Hugh  of  Lincoln,  the  various  Scotish  or  Eng- 
lish ballads  on  the  same  subject,  reprinted  from  the  collec- 
tions of  Percy,  Pinkerton,  Jamieson,  Gilchrist,  and  Mother- 
well. It  is  entitled,  "  Hugues  de  Lincoln:  Recueil  de 
Ballades  Anglo-Normande  et  Ecossoises  relatives  au  meurtre 
de  cet  Enfant  commis  par  les  Juifs  en  M.CC.LV.  Publie 
avec  une  Introduction  etdes  Notes,  par  Francisque  Michel." 
Paris,  1834,  8vo. 

The  Anglo-Norman  ballad  is  a  great  curiosity,  and  cor- 
responds more  closely  with  the  notice  that  occurs  in 
Matthew  of  Paris,  and  other  old  English  historians,  than 
with  the  more  poetical  cast  of  this  tragical  incident  in  the 
Scotish  ballads.    It  begins  — 

Ore  oez  un  bel  chanson 

Des  Jues  de  Nichole,  qui  par  treison 

Firent  la  cruel  occision 

De  un  enfant  que  Huchon  ont  nom. 

DLXXXIX. 

there's  news,  lasses,  news  ! 
In  this  Note,  for  Skene's  MS.  circa  1570,  read  circa 
1620. 

DXC. 

HARD  IS  THE  FATE,  &C. 

In  would  be  superfluous  to  give  any  account  of  a  person 
so  well  known  as  the  author  of  "  The  Seasons.''  The 
most  minute  and  accurate  life  of  the  poet  with  which  I  am 
acquainted,  is  that  prefixed  to  the  elegant  edition  of  his 
Poetical  Works,  in  the  Aldine  scries  of  English  Poets, 
London,  1830,  2  vols.  12mo. 

James  Thomson  was  born  at  Ednam,  in  Roxburghshire, 


536 


HARD  IS  THE  FATE,  &C. 


11th  of  September  1700,  and  died  at  London,  27th  of 
August  1748.  The  following  is  an  extract  from  a  letter 
written  by  David  Malloch,  or  Mallet,  from  London  in 
1727,  soon  after  the  appearance  of  Thomson's  "  Winter." 
It  was  addressed  to  Professor  Ker  of  Aberdeen,  and  gives 
a  curious  account  of  the  estimation  in  which  Thomson  was 
held  by  his  college  companions  at  Edinburgh  : — 

"  Sir, — I  beg  leave  to  take  notice  of  a  mistake  that  runs 
through  your  last  letter,  and  that  was  occasioned  by  your 
not  understanding  a  passage  in  mine.    The  copy  of  verses 
that  I  sent  you,  was,  indeed,  written  by  me,  and  I  never 
intended  to  make  a  secret  of  it ;  but  Mr  Thomson's  6  Win- 
ter' is  a  very  different  poem,  of  considerable  length,  and 
agreeing  with  mine  in  nothing  but  the  name.    It  has  met 
with  a  great  deal  of  deserved  applause,  and  was  written  by 
that  dull  fellow  whom  Malcolm  calls  the  jest  of  our  club. 
The  injustice  I  did  him  then,  in  joining  with  my  compa- 
nions to  ridicule  the  first  imperfect  essays  of  an  excellent 
genius,  was  a  strong  motive  to  make  me  active  in  endea- 
vouring to  assist  and  encourage  him  since ;  and  I  believe  I 
shall  never  repent  it.    He  is  now  settled  in  a  very  good 
place,  and  will  be  able  to  requite  all  the  services  his  friends 
have  done  him,  in  time.    The  second  edition  of  his  poem 
is  now  in  the  press,  and  shall  be  sent  to  you  as  soon  as 
published.    You  will  find  before  it  three  copies  of  recom- 
mendatory verses,  one  written  by  Mr  Hill,  the  second  by  a 
very  fine  woman,  at  my  request,  and  the  third  by  myself. 
Since  all  this  is  so,  I  will  say  nothing  of  your  suspecting 
me  of  insincerity,  a  vice  which  I  am  very  free  from." 

Thomson's  earliest  printed  verses  occur  in  a  volume  en- 
titled "  The  Edinburgh  Miscellany/'  vol.  I.  (no  second 
volume  ever  appeared).    Edinburgh,  1720,  12mo. 

Since  the  previous  notes  regarding  Malloch  or  Mallet, 
were  printed,  a  search  has  been  made  in  the  parochial 
registers  of  Crieff  (from  1692  to  1730),  where  he  is  said 
to  have  been  born  in  1700.    It  appears,  however,  that 


HARD  IS  THE  FATE,  &C. 


537 


his  baptism  was  not  registered.  The  names  of  various 
children  of  Charles  and  Donald  Malloch's,  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  Crieff,  occur,  including  a  David,  in  1712. 
This  obviously  was  not  the  poet ;  but  it  appears  that  his 
father  "  James  Malloch,  and  Beatrix  Clark,  his  wife,"  were 
brought  before  the  Kirk- Session  of  Crieff,  in  October  and 
November  1704,  for  profanation  of  the  Lord's  day,  "  by 
some  strangers  drinking  and  fighting  in  his  house  on  the 
Sabbath  immediately  following  Michaelmas."  On  the  12th 
of  November,  "  they  being  both  rebuked  for  giving  enter- 
tainment to  such  folks  on  the  Sabbath-day,  and  promising 
never  to  do  the  like,  were  dismissed." 

DXCII. 

GO  TO  BERWICK,  JOHNNY. 

John  Hamilton,  who  contributed  various  pieces  to  the 
Museum,  was  for  many  years  a  Musicseller  at  No.  24, 
North  Bridge  street,  Edinburgh.  He  was  much  employed 
also  as  a  teacher  of  music,  and  I  have  been  told  that  it 
was  one  of  his  fair  pupils,  connected  with  an  ancient  family, 
whom  he  married,  to  the  no  small  indignation  of  her  friends. 
He  died  at  Edinburgh,  in  September  1814. 

In  the  Scots  Magazine  for  November  1814,  the  follow- 
ing notice  occurs  :— Sept.  23d,  "  Died  in  the  53d  year  of 
his  age,  after  a  lingering  and  painful  illness,  John  Hamil- 
ton, late  Musicseller,  in  this  city,  author  of  many  favourite 
Scots  Songs,  and  composer  of  several  Melodies  of  consider- 
able merit." 

DXCIV. 

O  GIN  MY  LOVE  WERE  YON  RED  ROSE. 
To  the  two  verses  inserted  in  this  Note,  the  one  old,  the 
other  by  Burns,  this  song  has  been  enlarged,  by  the  addi- 
tion of  the  following  beautiful  lines,  written  by  John  Rich- 
ardson, Esq.,  for  Mr  George  Thomson's  Collection. 


538 


O  GIN  MY  LOVE  WERE  YON  RED  ROSE. 


O  were  my  love  yon  violet  sweet, 

That  peeps  frae  'neath  the  hawthorn  spray, 
And  I  mysel'  the  zephyr's  breath, 

Amang  its  bonnie  leaves  to  play  ; 
I'd  fan  it  wi'  a  constant  gale, 

Beneath  the  noontide's  scorching  ray  ; 
And  sprinkle  it  wi'  freshest  dews, 

At  morning  dawn  and  parting  day. 

As  Mr  Stenhouse  alludes,  at  page  508,  to  Tannahill's 
fine  Song,  «  Gloomy  Winter,"  I  may  take  this  opportunity 
to  mention,  that  an  interesting  Memoir  of  that  unfortunate 
Bard  has  recently  appeared,  by  Mr  Philip  A.  Ramsay,  pre- 
fixed to  "  The  Poems  and  Songs  of  Robert  Tannahill, 
a  revised  and  enlarged  edition,  with  Memoirs  of  the  author, 
and  of  his  friend,  Robert  A.  Smith.',    Glasgow,  1838, 
12mo.    Tannahill  was  born  at  Paisley,  3d  of  June  1774, 
where  he  died,  17th  of  May  1810,  in  the  thirty-sixth  year 
of  his  age.    Robert  Archibald  Smith,  usually  styled 
4  of  Paisley,'  to  whose  musical  skill  Tannahill  was  indebted 
for  much  of  the  celebrity  which  his  songs  enjoyed,  was  born 
at  Reading,  18th  of  November  1780.    His  father,  origin- 
ally a  weaver  from  Paisley,  had  been  settled  at  Reading 
for  a  number  of  years,  but  at  length  he  returned  to  Paisley 
with  his  family  in  1800.    Here  Robert  continued  during 
the  best  period  of  his  life,  and  had  so  distinguished  himself 
by  his  musical  attainments,  that  so  early  as  1812,  we  find 
he  was  strongly  urged  to  settle  in  Edinburgh  as  a  teacher 
of  music.    This  appears  from  a  friendly  letter  addressed  to 
him  by  Mr  John  Hamilton,  Musicseller,  with  which  I  have 
been  favoured  by  Smith's  biographer.    It  was  not  until 
August  1823,  on  receiving  an  invitation  from  the  Rev.  Dr 
Thomson  to  conduct  the  music  in  St  George's  Church,  that 
he  came  hither ;  and  I  believe  he  had  only  occasion  to  la- 
ment his  not  having  done  so  at  an  earlier  period  of  life.  He 
died  at  Edinburgh,  very  sincerely  regretted,  3d  of  January 
1829,  in  the  49th  year  of  his  age,  and  lies  interred  in  St  Cuth- 


O  GIN  MY  LOVE  WERE  YON  RED  ROSE. 


539 


bert's  burying-ground.  His  "  Scottish  Minstrel,"  1821- 
1824,  6  vols.,  and  his  various  other  musical  publications,  are 
well  known  and  esteemed ;  he  also  enriched  the  music  of 
his  country  by  many  original  melodies  of  great  simplicity 
and  beauty ;  and  above  all,  the  services  that  he  rendered  to 
Sacred  Music,  by  his  professional  skill  and  good  taste, 
as  well  as  by  his  original  compositions,  will  long  continue 
to  have  a  beneficial  influence  on  the  Psalmody  and  Sacred 
Music  of  the  Church  of  Scotland. 

The  late  William  Motherwell,  who  projected  the 
publication  of  the  volume  which  his  friend  Mr  Ramsay 
has  so  well  performed,  was  a  native  of  Glasgow,  and  born 
13th  of  October  1797.  Besides  his  "  Minstrelsy,  Ancient 
and  Modern,"  Glasgow,  1827,  small  4to,  his  edition  of 
Burns,  and  various  other  republications,  he  was  the  author 
of  a  small  volume  of  original  "  Poems,  Narrative  and  Lyri- 
cal," Glasgow,  1832,  12mo,  which  remains  as  a  pleasing 
memorial  of  his  poetical  genius.  He  was  for  many  years 
resident  in  Paisley,  officially  connected  with  the  Sheriff- 
Clerk's  Office,  but  latterly  settled  in  his  native  place  (as 
editor  of  the  Glasgow  Courier  Newspaper),  where  he  died 
in  the  prime  of  life,  1st  of  November  1835. 

DC. 

GOOD-NIGHT  AND  JOY  BE  WI*  YOU  A'. 

The  following  beautiful  stanzas,  by  Joanna  Baillie, 
written  for  this  air,  appeared  in  Mr  Allan  Cunningham's 
"  Songs  of  Scotland,"  vol.  IV.  p.  212,  from  whence  they 
were  copied,  by  his  son,  Mr  Peter  Cunningham,  into  one 
of  the  most  elegant  and  judicious  selections  of  the  kind 
that  has  appeared,  under  the  title  of  "  Songs  of  England 
and  Scotland."    Lond.  1835.    2  vols.  l2mo. 

GOOD-NIGHT,  GOOD-NIGHT  ! 

The  sun  is  sunk,  the  day  is  done, 
E'en  stars  are  setting,  one  by  one  ; 


540 


GOOD-NIGHT  AND  JOY  BE  Wl'  YOU  a\ 


Nor  torch  nor  taper  longer  may 

Eke  out  the  pleasures  of  the  day  ; 
And,  since,  in  social  glee's  despite, 
It  needs  must  be,  Good-night,  good-night ! 

The  bride  into  her  bower  is  sent, 
The  ribald  rhyme  and  jesting  spent ; 
The  lover's  whispered  words,  and  few, 
Have  bid  the  bashful  maid  adieu  j 

The  dancing  floor  is  silent  quite, 

No  foot  bounds  there,  Good-night,  good-night ! 

The  lady  in  her  curtain'd  bed, 

The  herdsman  in  his  wattled  shed, 

The  clansmen  in  the  heather'd  hall, 

Sweet  sleep  be  with  you,  one  and  all ! 
We  part  in  hope  of  days  as  bright 
As  this  now  gone,  Good-night,  good-night ! 

Sweet  sleep  be  with  us,  one  and  all ; 
And  if  upon  its  stillness  fall 
The  visions  of  a  busy  brain, 
We'll  have  our  pleasures  o'er  again, 

To  warm  the  heart,  and  charm  the  sight ; 

Gay  dreams  to  all !   Good-night,  good-night ! 


INDEX 


OF  THE 


SONGS  OR  AIRS  CONTAINED  IN  THE 
MUSICAL  MUSEUM. 


Vol,    I.  contains  pages       1-101    Vol.  IV.  contains  pages  311-413 

_  II.    —      102-208     —    V.    —  414-516 

III.    —      209-310     —   VI.    —  517-620 


A 

Page. 

Absence,  .  .191 
A  cock  laird,  fu'  cadgie,  155 
A  cogie  of  ale,  and  a  pickle  ait 

meal,  ....  564 
A  country  lass,  .  .  356 
Ae  day  a  braw  wooer,  .  538 
Ae  fond  kiss,  &c,  .  .  358 
Afton  water,  .  .  .  400 
Ah !  Mary,  sweetest  maid,  546 
Ah  !  the  poor  shepherd's 

mournful  fate,  .  .  158 
Ah !  why  thus  abandon'd,  ,  270 
A  lass  wi'  a  lump  o'  land,  177 
A  lassie  all  alone,  .  .  418 
Allan  water,  ...  43 
Alloa  house,  .  .  .  246 
A  mother's  lament  for  the 

death  of  her  son,  .  280 

And  I'll  kiss  thee  yet,     .  201 
An  Gille  dubh  ciar  dhubh,  135 
An  I'll  awa'  to  bonny  Tweed- 
side,    ....  580 
Anna,  thy  charms  my  bosom 

fire,  .  .  .  .  547 
An  thou  wert  my  ain  thing,  2 
A  red,  red  rose,  .  .  415 
A  red,  red  rose  (old  sett),  416 
Argyll  is  my  name,  .  .  578 
A  rosebud  by  my  early  walk,  197 
As  I  cam  down  by  yon  castle 

wa*,  .  .  .  .  336 
As  I  came  in  by  Auchindoun,  308 
As  I  came  o'er  the  Cairney 

mount,        .       .       •  480 


Page.  • 

As  I  lay  on  my  bed  on  a 

night,  .  .  .  601 
As  I  was  wand'ring,  .  359 
As  I  went  o'er,  &c,  .  525 
As  I  went  out  ae  May  morning,  410 
A  southland  Jenny,  .  318 

As  Sylvia  in  a  forest  lay,  .  441 
As  walking  forth,  .  .  526 
Auld  King  Coul,  .  .  486 
Auld  langsyne,  .  .  26 
Auld  langsyne,  .  .  426 
Auld  Robin  Gray,  .  .  256 
Auld  Rob  Morris,  .  .  200 
Auld  Sir  Symon  the  King,  354 
A  waukrife  minnie,  .  298 

Awa',  whigs,  awa',  .  .  272 
Ay  waukin',  O,  .  .  222 
Ay  waking  oh,        .       .  396 

B. 

Banks  of  Spey,  .  .194 
Bannocks  o'  bear  meal,  .  489 
Benny  side,  .  .  .160 
Bess  and  her  spinning-wheel,  371 
Bess  the  gawkie,  .  .  4 
Bessy  Bell  and  Mary  Gray,  134 
Bessy's  h aggies,  .  .  31 
Beware,  o'  bonnie  Ann,  .  224 
Bhannerach  dhon  na  chri,  165 
Bide  ye  yet,  ...  98 
Birks  of  Aberfeldie,  .  116 

Blink  o'er  the  burn,  sweet 

Betty,  ...  52 
Blue  bonnets,  .       .  473 

Blythe  Jockie,  ...  25 


INDEX. 


Page. 

Blythe  Jockie,  young  and  gay,  30 
Blythe  was  she,  .  .  187 
Bonny  Barbara  Allan,  .  230 
Bonnie  Bell,  .  .  .401 
Bonny  Bessy,  .       .  31 

Bonny  Christy,  .  .  61 
Bonny  Dundee,  .  .  100 
Bonny  Jean,  ...  55 
Bonnie  Kate  of  Edinburgh,  205 
Bonnie  laddie,  Highland  laddie,  342 
Bonnie  May,  .  .  .  113 
Braes  of  Ballenden,  .  93 

Braes  of  Balquhidder,  .  201 
Braw,  braw  lads  of  Gala  wa- 
ter, ....  131 
Brace's  address  to  his  army,  596 
Busk  ye,  busk  ye,  .  .  65 
By  the  delicious  warmness  of 
thy  mouth,    .       .       .  262 


Cumbernauld  house, 
Cumnock  psalms, 


Cameronian  rant, 
Captain  Cook's  death, 
Carle  an  the  king  come, 
Carle  an  the  king  come  (old 

words), 
Carron  side, 

Ca'  the  "ewes  to  the  knowes, 
Cauld  frosty  morning, 
Cauld  is  the  evening  blast, 
Cauld  kail  in  Aberdeen, 
Cease,  cease,  my  dear  friend, 

to  explore, 
Charlie  he's  my  darling, 
Chronicle  of  the  heart, 
Clarinda, 
Clout  the  caldron, 
Cock  up  your  beaver, 
Colin  Clout,  . 
Colonel  Gardener,  . 
Come  follow,  follow  me, 
Come,  here's  to  the  nymph 

that  I  love,  . 
Come  kiss  wi'  me,  come  clap 

wi'  me, 

Come,  let's  hae  mair  wine  in, 
Come  under  my  plaidie, 
Comin'  thro'  the  rye  (1st  sett),  430 
Comin'  thro'  the  rye  (2d  sett),  431 
Corn  riggs,  ...  94 
Could  aught  of  song,  .  509 
Country  lassie,  .  .  376 
Craigie-burn  wood,  .  .  311 
Cromlet's  lilt,  .       .  207 


290 
288 
248 

248 
312 
273 
236 
603 
170 

254 
440 
482 
206 
24 
319 
568 
214 
552 

354 

363 
12 
550 


Dainty  Davie, 
Deil  tak  the  wars, 
Dinna  think,  bonny  lassie 
Donald  and  Flora, 
Donald  Couper, 
Donocht-head, 
Down  the  burn  Davie, 
Drap  o'  capie,  O, 
Druimon  dubh, 
Dumbarton's  drums, 
Duncan  Davison,- 
Duncan  Gray, 
Dusty  miller, 

E. 

Earl  Douglas'  lament, 
East  nook  of  Fife,  . 
Eppie  Adair,  . 
Eppie  M'Nab, 
Ettrick  banks, 
Evan  banks, 
Evanthe, 

F. 

Failte  na  miosg, 
Fair  Eliza, 
Fair  Eliza, 
Fairest  of  the  fair, 
Farewell,  ye  fields,  . 
Fife  and  a'  the  lands  about  it, 
Finlayston  house, 
Fine  flowers  in  the  valley, 
For  a'  that,  an*  a'  that, 
For  lack  of  gold, 
For  the  sake  o'  somebody, 
Fourteenth  of  October, 
Frae  the  friends  and  land  I 

love, 
Freicedan  (M.), 
Frennett  hall, 

Fy  gar  rub  her  o'er  wi!  strae, 
G. 

Gaelic  air,  .  .  .183 
Gaelic  air,  .  .  .  266 
Gaelic  air,  .  .  .  373 
Gaelic  air,       .  .  379 

Gaelic  air,  .  .  .  399 
Gae  to  the  ky  wi'  me  Johnny,  142 
Galashiels,  .  .  .158 
Galloway  Tam,       .       .  330 


Page. 
149 
418 


34 
270 
574 
261 
344 
388 
75 
306 
187 
169 
156 
168 
151 

352 
286 
290 
346 
82 
516 
394 

268 
378 
379 
33 
597 
125 
280 
331 
300 
171 
448 
182 

312 
102 
296 
17 


INDEX. 


iii 


Page. 

Gently  blaw,  &c,  .  .  581 
Geordie,  an  old  ballad,  357 
Get  up  and  bar  the  door,  310 
Gilderoy,  .  .  .  67 
Gill  Morrice  .       .  212 

Gingling  Geordie,  .  482 
Gladsmuir,  .  .  .  210 
Gloomy  December,  .  515 

Good-morrow,  fair  mistress,  502 
Good-night  and  joy  be  wi* 

you  a',  .  .  .620 
Go,  plaintive  sounds,  .  595 
Go  to  Berwick  Johnny,  .  534 
Go  to  the  ewe  bughts,  Marion,  86 
Gow's  (Neill)  lamentation  for 

Abercairney,  .  .  203 
Green  grow  the  rashes  .  78 
Green  sleeves,  .  .  402 
Gudeen  to  you,  kimmer,  540 
Gude  Wallace,        .       .  498 

H 

Had  I  the  wyte  she  bad  me,  427 
Hallow  E'en,  .       .  143 

Hallow  Fair,  .  .  .462 
Hamilla,  .       .       .  Ill 

Hap  me  wi'  thy  petticoat,  146 
Happy  Clown,  .  .  260 
Hard  is  the  fate  of  him  who 

loves,  .       .       .  610 

Hardy  Knute,  or  the  battle 

of  Largs,  .  .  .289 
Have  you  any  pots  or  pans,  536 
Her  absence  will  not  alter  me,  72 
Here  awa',  there  awa\  .  58 
Here's  a  health  to  my  true 

love,  .  .174 

Here's  a  health  to  them  that's 

awa',  .  ...  425 
Here's  his  health  in  water,  494 
Here's  to  thy  health,  my  bonnie 

!ass,  ....  511 
He's  dear  dear  to  me,  &c,  566 
He  stole  my  tender  heart  away,  29 
He  who  presumed  to  guide  the 

sun,  .  .  .  .115 
Hey  ca'  thro'  .       .  405 

Hey  how,  Johnie  lad,  .  368 
Hey,  Jenny,  come  down  to  Jock,  175 
Hey  my  kitten,  my  kitten,  577 
Hey,  tuttie,  tatti,  .  .  17$ 
Highlander's  lament,  .  218 
Highland  laddie,  .  .  491 
Highland  laddie  (new  set),  22 


Page. 

Highland  lamentation,  186 

Highland  song,         .       .  274 

Hooly  and  fairly,  .  199 
How  long  and  dreary  is  the 

night,  .       .  .183 

How  sweet  is  the  scene,  586 

How  sweet  this  lone  vale,  588 

Hughie  Graham,      .       .  312 

I. 

Ian  thy  the  lovely,  ,  .  107 
I  care  na'  for  your  e'en  sae 

blue,    ....  619 

I  do  confess  thou  art  sae  fair,  332 

I  dream'd  I  lay,  &c,       .  153 

If  e'er  I  do  weel  it's  a  wonder,  332 
I  had  a  horse  and  I  had  nae 

mair,           .       .       .  193 

I  ha'e  a  wife  o'  my  ain,    .  364 

I'll  ay  ca'  in  by  yon  town,  470 
I'll  mak'  you  be  fain  to  follow 

me       ...  277 

I'll  never  leave  thee,        .  92 

I'll  never  love  thee  more,  464 

I  lo'e  na  a  laddie  but  ane,  276 

I  love  my  Jean,       .       .  244 

I  love  my  jovial  sailor,      .  404 

I  love  my  love  in  secret,  213 

I'm  o'er  young  to  marry  yet,  1 10 
In  Brechin  did  a  wabster 

dwell,  .       .  .541 

Invercauld's  reel,     .       .  203 

In  yon  garden,  &c,          .  582 

Irish  air,         .       .       .  458 

It  is  na,  Jean,  thy  bonnie  face,  343 

It  was  a' for  ourrightfu'  King,  513 

I've  been  courting  at  a  lass,  316 
I  who  am  sore  oppressed  with 

love,    .       .       .  .154 

I  wish  my  love  were  in  a  mire,  4 1 

J. 

Jamie,  come  try  me,        .  238 

Jamie  Gay,      .       .       .  15 

Jamie  o'  the  glen,            .  420 

Jenny's  bawbie,        .       .  512 

Jenny  dang  the  weaver,  133 

Jenny  Nettles,         .       .  53 

Jenny  was  fair  and  unkind,  217 

Jocky  fou,  and  Jenny  fain,  395 

Jocky  said  to  Jenny,  .  62 
Jockey's  ta'en  the  parting  kiss,  589 

John  Anderson  my  jo,      .  269 

John,  come  kiss  me  now,  315 

John  Hay's  bonny  lassie,  68 


INDEX. 


John  o*  Badenyond, 
Johnny  Macgill, 
Johnny  and  Mary,  . 
Johnie  Armstrang, 
Johnie  Blunt, 
Johnie  Cope, 

Johnny  Faa,   or  the  gipsie 

laddie,  .  .  .189 
Johny's  gray  breeks,  .  28 
Jumpin'  John,         .       .  145 


Page. 

294 
216 
101 

367 
376 
242 


Lucky  Nancy, 
Lucy  Campbell, 


Page. 

34 
278 


K. 

Kate  of  Aberdeen, 
Katherine  Ogie, 
Katy's  answer, 
Kellyburnbraes, 
Killiecrankie,  . 
Kind  Robin  loes  me, 


36 
171 
180 

392 
303 
492 


(old 


Laddie  lye  near  me, 
Laddie  lye  near  me 

words), 
Lady  Bothwell's  lament, 
Lady  Mary  Ann, 
Lady  Randolph's  complaint, 
Lass  gin  ye  lo'e  me  tell  me  now,  253 
Leader  haughs  and  Yarrow  220 
Leander  on  the  bay, 
Leezie  Lindsay, 
Leith  wynd, 
Let  me  in  this  ae  night, 
Let  ithers  brag  weel, 
Lewis  Gordon, 
Little  wat  ye  wha's  coming, 
Lizae  Baillie, 

Liv'd  ance  twa  lovers  in  yon 

dale, 
Lochaber, 
Loch  Eroch  side, 
Logan  water 
Loggan  burn, 
Logie  o'  Buchan, 
Lord  Breadalbine's  march, 
Lord  Ronald  my  son, 
Lord  Thomas  and  fair  Annet,  553 
Louis,  what  reck  I  by  thee,  427 
Lovely  Davies, 
Lovely  lass  of  Monorgan, 
Lovely  Polly  Stewart, 
Love  is   the  cause  of  my 

mourning, 
Love  will  find  out  the  way, 
Low  down  in  the  broom, 


226 

227 
135 
390 
352 


27 
446 
250 
320 
276 

87 
591 
469 

616 
96 
78 
42 
511 
368 
279 
337 


360 
154 
485 


111 
157 
91 


M'Gregor  of  Roro's  lament,  181 
M^Pherson's  farewell,  .  117 
Maggy  Lauder,  .  .  99 
Magie's  tocher,  .  .  238 
Marquis  of  Huntly's  reel,  209 
Mary  of  Castlecary,  .  454 
Mary  Queen  of  Scots  lament,  4 1 7 
Mary  Scot,  ...  74 
Mary's  dream,  .  .  33 
May-Eve,  or  Kate  of  Aberdeen,  36 
May  morning,  .       .  574 

Merry  ha'e  I  been  teethin'  a 

heckle,  .  ,  m  279 
M.  Freicedan,  .  .  102 
Miss  Admiral  Gordon's  Strath- 
spey* «...  244 
Miss  Hamilton's  delight,  183 
Miss  Muir,  .  .  ,  359 
Miss  Weir,  .  .  ,  413 
Morag,  •  .  .  .150 
Muirland  Willie,  .  .  380 
Musing  on  the  roaring  ocean,  187 
My  ain  kind  dearie  O,  .  50 
My  apron  dearie,  .  94 
My  bonny  Mary,  .  .  240 
My  boy  Tammy,  .  .  513 
My  collier  laddie,  .  .  372 
My  daddy  left  me,  &c,  .  542 
My  dearie,  if  thou  die,  .  83 
My  dear  Jockey,  .  .  \q 
My  father  has  forty  good  shil- 

lings>  ...  465 

My  goddess  woman,  .  314 
My  Harry  was  a  gallant  gay,  218 
My  heart's  in  the  Highlands,  268 
My  joe  Janet,  .  .  j  14 
My  lady's  gown  there's  gairs 

upon't,  ...  573 
My  loved  Celestia,  .  160 

My  love  has  forsaken  me,  159 
My  love  is  lost  to  me,  .  264 
My  love  she's  but  a  lassie  yet,  234 
My  Mary,  dear  departed  shade,  288 


My  minnie  says  I  manna, 
My  Nannie,  O, 
My  Nannie,  O, 
My  Peggy's  face, 
My  tocher's  the  jewel, 
My  wife  has  ta'en  the  gee 


478 
89 
600 
517 
322 
422 


My  wife's  a  wanton  wee  thing,  226 


INDEX. 


V 


N. 


Page 


Nae  luck  about  the  house,  615 

Nancy's  ghost,  .  .  205 
Nancy's  to  the  greenwood  gane,  50 

Nelly's  dream,          .       .  612 

Nithsdale's  welcome  hame,  375 

No  churchman  am  I,        .  606 

No  dominies  for  me,  laddie,  504 

Now  bank  an'  brae,         .  537 

Now  westlin'  winds,         .  363 

O. 

O  as  I  was  kist  yestreen,  330 
O  ay,  my  wife  she  dang  me,  549 
O  Both  well  bank,  .  .  529 
O  can  ye  labor  lea,  young  man,  407 
O  can  ye  sew  cushions,  .  456 
O  cherub  content,  .  .  526 
O  dear  mother  what  shall  I  do,  245 
O  dear !  what  can  the  matter 

be>  ....  510 
O  er  Bogie,  .  .  .175 
O'er  the  hills  and  far  away,  62 
O'er  the  moor  to  Maggy,  56 
O'er  the  muir  amang  the  hea- 

ther>  •       •       .  338 

O  er  the  water  to  Charlie,  ]  95 
O  fare  ye  weel,  my  auld  wife,  365 
O  for  ane  and  twenty,  Tarn,  366 
O  gin  I  were  fairly  shot  of  her,  576 
O  gin  my  love  were  yon  red 

rose,  ....  614 
O  gin  ye  were  dead,  gudeman,  421 
O  gude  ale  comes,  &c,  .  561 
O  heard  ye  e'er  of  a  silly  blind 

harper,  ...  598 
Oh  ono  chrio,  .       .  90 

Oh  open  the  door,  Lord  Gre- 

g°ry>        ...  5 
O  Kenmure's  on  and  awa' 
n  Willie,        ...  370 
O  ken  ye  what  Meg  o'  the  mill 

has  gotten,  .       .  535 

O  laddie,  I  maun  lo'e  thee,  320 
O  lay  thy  loof  in  mine,  lass,  593 
O  leave  novels,  &c,  .  592 
O  Mally's  meek,  Mally's  sweet,  617 
O  Mary  turns  awa',  .  560 
O  Mary,  ye's  be  clad  in  silk,  605 
O  May,  thy  morn,  .  .  477 
O  mither  dear,  .  .  133 
On  a  bank  of  flowers,  .  232 
On  a  rock  by  seas  surrounded,  1 07 
On  hearing  a  young  lady  sing,  453 


On  the  death  of  Delia's  linnet,  408 
On  the  restoration  of  the  for- 
feited estates,  1 794,  .  308 
O  once  I  loved,  .  .  570 
Orananaig,  .  .  .  399 
Oran  Gaoil,  .  .  .  282 
O  saw  ye  my  father,  .  77 
Oscar's  ghost,  .  .  71 
O  steer  her  up  and  haud  her 

gaun,  .       .  .520 

O  tell  me,  my  bonny,  &c,  558 
O  that  I  had  ne'er  been  mar- 
ried,    .       .       .  .613 
O  turn  away  those  cruel  eyes,  604 
Our  goodman  came  hame  at 

e'en,  .  .  .  464 
Out  over  the  Forth,  &c,  434 
O  wat  ye  wha's  in  yon  town,  471 
O  were  I  on  Parnassus'  hill,  264 

P. 

Patie's  wedding,  .  .  396 
Peasstrae,  .  .  .  316 
Peggy,  in  devotion,  .  419 
Peggy,  I  must  love  thee,  3 
Pinky  house,  ...  57 
Pol  wart  on  the  green,  .  191 
Powers  celestial,  whose  pro- 
ton* .  '  .  .473 
Praelium  Gillicrankianum,  105 
Put  the  gown  upon  the  bishop,  462 


R. 

Rattlin'  roarin'  Willie,  .  202 
Raving  winds  around  her 

blowing,       .       .       .  i81 

Rinn  m'eudail  mo  mhealladh,  359 

Red  gleams  the  sun,         .  519 

Return  hameward,           .  572 

Robie  donna  gorach,        .  305 

Robin  shure  in  hairst,       .  562 

Rock  and  a  wee  pickle  tow,  450 

Rory  Dall's  port,     .       .  353 

Roslin  castle,          .       .  9 

Row  saftly,  thou  stream,  524 

Roy's  wife  of  Aldivalloch,  352 

Ruffian's  rant,         .        ,  \q± 

S. 

Sae  far  awa',  .  .  .  45 1 
Sae  merry  as  we  twa  ha'e  been,  60 

Sandy  and  Jockie,     .  292 

Sandie  o'er  the  lee,  .       .  283 

Sawnie's  pipe,        .  2 14 
2q 


vi 


INDEX. 


Saw  ye  Johnnie  cummin',  quo' 

she,  ....  10 
Saw  ye  nae  my  Peggy,  .  ]  2 
Saw  ye  the  Thane,  .  594 
Scenes  of  woe  and  pleasure,  533 
Scots  queen,  .       .  198 

Scots  Jenny,  .       .  217 

Scroggam,  .  .  .  558 
Sensibility,  how  charming,  339 
Seventh  of  November,  .  233 
She  rose  and  let  me  in,  .  84 
She  says  she  lo'es  me  best  of  a',  458 
She's  fair  and  fause,  ,  .  411 
Sic  a  wife  as  Willie  had,  389 
Since  robb'd  of  all  that  charm'd 

my  views,  .  .  .183 
Sir  John  Malcolm,  .  .  468 
Sir  Patrick  Spence,  .  .  496 
Sleepy  body,  .  .  .  404 
SongofSelma,  .  .123 
Song  of  Selma,  .  .  265 
Stay,  my  charmer,  can  you 

leave  me  ?  .       .  135 

Stern  winter  has  left  us,  .  544 
Stern  winter  has  left  us  (2d 

sett),  .  .  .  .  545 
St  Kilda  Song,  '  .  .250 
Strathallan's  lament,  .  138 
Strephon  and  Lydia,  .107 
Such  a  parcel  of  rogues  in  a 

nation,  .  .  .  391 
Sure,  my  Jean,  .  .  587 
Sweet  Annie  frae  the  sea-beach 

came,  ...  85 

Sweetest  May,        .       .  578 

T. 

Tak  your  auld  cloak  about  ye,  258 
Talk  not  of  love,  it  gives  me 

pain,  ....  194 
Tarn  Glen,  .  .  .306 
Tam  Lin,  .  .  .423 
Tarry  woo,  ...  45 
Tell  me,  Jessie,  tell  me  why,  618 


The  auld  goodman,          .  328 

The  auld  man,      .          .  429 

The  auld  man's  mare's  dead,  500 

The  auld  wife  ayont  the  fire,  446 

The  auld  yellow-haired  laddie,  128 

The  banks  o'  Doon,         .  387 

The  banks  of  Forth,         .  76 

The  banks  of  Helicon,       .  478 

The  banks  of  Nith,  .       .  305 

The  banks  of  the  Dee,    .  532 


Page 

The  banks  of  the  Devon,  165 

The  banks  of  the  Tweed,  6 

The  battle  of  Harlaw,       .  528 

The  battle  of  Sherra  Muir,  290 

The  beds  of  sweet  roses,  8 

Thebirks  of  Aberfeldy,     .  115 

The  birks  of  Abergeldie,  115 

The  birks  of  Invermay,  73 

The  black  eagle,       .       .  237 

The  blathrie  o't,       .       .  34 

The  blue  bells  of  Scotland,  566 

The  blue-eyed  lassie,        .  304 

The  blythsome  bridal,       .  58 

The  boatie  rows  (1st  sett),  438 

The  boatie  rows  (2d  sett),  438 

The  boatie  rows  (3d  sett),  438 

The  bonie  banks  of  Ayr,  293 
The  boniest  lass  in  a'  the  warld,  111 

The  bonny  brucket  lassie,  69 

The  bonny  Earl  of  Murray,  185 

The  bonny  grey-eyed  morn,  80 
The  bonie  lad  that's  far  awa',  328 
The  bonie  lass  made  the  bed 

to  me,         .       .       .  460 

The  bonny  Scotsman,       .  13 

The  bonny  wee  thing,       .  351 

The  braes  o'  Ballochmyle, .  285 

The  breast  knots,     .       '.  222 

The  brisk  young  lad,        .  228 

The  bridal  o't,         .       .  278 

The  broom  blooms  bonie,  474 
The  broom  of  Cowdenknows,  70 

The  bush  aboon  Traquair,  81 

The  butcher  boy,     .       .  314 

The  Campbells  are  comin',  309 

The  captain's  lady,  .       .  242 

The  captive  riband,   .       .  266 

The  cardin'  o't,  .  .  449 
The  carle  he  came  o'er  the 

craft,   ....  141 

The  carlin  of  the  glen,      .  433 

The  cherry  and  the  slae,  478 

The  collier's  bony  lassie,  48 

The  cooper  o'  Cuddy,       .  442 
The  day  returns,  my  bosom 

burns,  ....  233 
The  deil's  awa'  wi*  th'  excise- 
man,   ....  412 
The  deucks  dang   o'er  my 

daddie,         .       .       .  409 
The  Duke  of  Gordon  has  three 

daughters,     .       .  431 

The  Dumfries  volunteers,  565 
The  ewie  wi'  the  crooked  horn,  302 


INDEX. 


vii 


Page 

The  flowers  of  Edinburgh,  14 
The  flowers  of  the  Forest,  64 
The  gaberlunzie  man,  .  234 
The  gallant  weaver,  .  403 
The  gardener  wi'  his  paidle,  229 
The  gentle  swain,  .  .  28 
The  glancing  of  her  apron,  457 
The  Gordons  has  the  guiding 

°'t,  ....  107 
The  happy  marriage,  .  20 
The  haws  of  Cromdale,  502 
The  Highland  balou,  .  486 
The  Highland  character,  .  218 
The  Highland  king,  .  ib. 

The  Highland  laddie,  .  22 
The  Highland  lassie  O,  .  121 
The  Highland  queen,  .  1 
The  Highland  widow's  lament,  5 14 
The  Highlander's  lament,  608 
The  humble  beggar,  .  435 
The  jolly  beggar,  .  .  274 
The  joyful  widower,  .  99 
The  lass  of  Ecclefechan,  442 
The  lass  of  Livingston,  .  18 
The  lass  of  Peaty 's  mill,  .  21 
The  lass  that  winna  sit  down,  476 
The  last  time  I  came  o'er  the 

moor,  ....  19 
The  lazy  mist,  .       .  241 

The  linkin  laddie,  .  .  246 
The  lovely  lass  of  Inverness,  414 
The  lover's  address  to  a  rose- 
bud, ....  254 
The  lowlands  of  Holland,  1 18 
The  maid's  complaint,  .  115 
The  maid  gaed  to  the  mill,  494 
The  maid  in  bedlam,  .  46 
The  maid  in  bedlam,  .  47 
The  maid  of  Selma,  .  119 

The  maid's  complaint,  .  115 
The  maid  that  tends  the  goats,  40 
The  maltman,  .  .  .  445 
The  miller,  .  .  m  J29 
The  mill,  mill,  O,  .  .  250 
The  moudiewort,  .  .  366 
The  mucking  o'  Geordie's  byre,  97 
The  northern  lass,  .  .  122 
Then  guidwife  count  the  law- 

in'»  •       •       .  323 

Theniel  Menzies'  bonie  Mary,  114 
The  ploughman,  .  .  173 
The  poor  pedlar,  .  .  532 
The  poor  thresher,  .  384 

Theposie,       ...  386 


The  Queen  o'  the  Lothians 

cam  cruisin'  to  Fife, 
The  rain  rins  down, 
The  ran  tin  dog  the  daddie  o't, 
The  rantin  laddie,  . 
The  reel  o'  Stumpie, 
There  grows  a  bonie  brier 

bush, 

There'll  never  be  peace  till 

Jamie  comes  hame, 
There's  a  youth  in  this  city, 
There's  my  thumb,  I'll  ne'er 

beguile  you, 
There's  nae  luck  about  the 

house, 

There's  news,  lasses,  news, 
There's  three  gude  fellows 

ayont  yon  glen,  . 
There  was  a  bonie  lass,  . 
There  was  a  silly  shepherd 

swain, 

There  was  a  wee  bit  wiffikie, 
The  rinaway  bride, 
The  rowin't  in  her  apron, 
The  Scots  recluse, 
The  shepherd  Adonis, 
The  shepherd's  preference, 
The  shepherd's  wife, 
The  siller  crown, 
The  slave's  lament, 
The  soger  laddie, 
The  song  of  death,  . 
The  souters  o'  Selkirk, 
The  sun  in  the  west, 
The  taylor, 

The  taylor  fell  thro'  the  bed, 
The  tears  I  shed, 
The  tears  of  Scotland, 
The  tither  morn, 
The  toast, 
The  turnimspike, 
The  vain  pursuit, 
The  waefu'  heart, 
The  wauking  of  the  fauld, 
The  weary  pund  o'  tow, 
The  wedding-day, 
The  wee  thing, 
The  wee  wee  man, 
The  whistle, 
The  white  cockade, 
The  winter  it  is  past, 
The  winter  oflife,  . 
The  wren,  or  Lennox's  love 
to  Blantyre,  .       .  497 


Page 

539 
602 
286 
474 
470 

508 

326 
266 

66 

44 
609 

454 
606 

490 
506 
488 
437 
214 
167 
286 
372 
249 
398 
334 
399 
450 
557 
505 
221 
350 
147 
355 
12 
24 
344 
252 
88 
362 
151 
454 
382 
324 
281 
268 
501 


Vlll 


INDEX. 


The  wren's  nest,  .  .  419 
The  yellow-hair' d  laddie,  127 
The  young  Highland  rover,  150 
The  young-  laird  and  Edin- 
burgh Katie,  .  .  179 
The  young  man's  dream,  131 
This  is  no  mine  ain  house,  225 
Tho'  for  seven  years,  .  522 
Thou  art  gane  awa',  .  348 
Thou  art  gane  awa'  (new  sett),  348 
Thro' the  wood  laddie,  .  161 
Thy  cheek  is  o'  the  rose's  hue,  548 
Tibbie  Dunbar,  .  .  216 
Tibbie  Fowler,  .  .  452 
Tibbie,  I  ha'e  seen  the  day,  203 
'Tis  nae  very  lang  sinsyne,  569 
To  a  blackbird,  .  .  198 
To  daunton  me,  .  .  190 
Todlin  hame,  .  .  284 
To  the  rosebud,  .  .  340 
To  the  weaver's  gin  ye  go,  106 
Tranent  muir,  .  .  103 
Tullochgorum,  .  .  298 
Tune  your  riddles,  .  .  209 
'Twas  at  the  shining  mid-day 

hour,    ....  534 

Tweedside,      ...  37 

Twine  weel  the  plaiden,    .  32 

U. 

Up  and  warn  a',  Willie,  .  195 
Up  in  the  morning  early,  147 

W. 

Wae  is  my  heart,  .  .  490 
Waly,  waly,  .  .  .166 
Waly,  waly  (a  different  sett),  458 
Wantonness  for  ever  mair,  435 
Wap  at  the  widow,  my  laddie,  1 30 
Water  parted  from  the  sea,  39 
Wee  Willie  Gray,  .  .  530 
We'll  put  the  sheephead  in 

the  pat,  .  .  .  493 
Were  na  my  heart  light,  I  wad 

die,  .  ...  126 
Wha  is  that  at  my  bower  door,  347 
Wha  wadna  be  in  love,  .  562 
Whar  Esk  its  silver  streams,  522 
What  ails  the  lasses  at  me,  556 
What  can  a  young  lassie  do  wi' 

an  auld  man,  .  .  327 
What's  that  to  you,  .  590 


Page 

What  will  I  do  gin  my  hoggie 

die,      .  .  139 

When  absent  from  the  nymph 

I  love,  ...  54 
When  Guilford  good  our  pilot 

stood,  .       .  .102 

When  I  gaed  to  the  mill,  521 
When  I  think  on  my  lad,  570 
When  I  upon  thy  bosom  lean,  214 
When  she  cam  ben  she  bobbed,  364 
When  the  days  they  are  lang,  530 
Where  braving  angry  winter's 

storms,  .  .  .  203 
Where  Helen  lies,  .  .  163 
Where  wad  bonie  Annie  lie,  335 
Where  winding  Forth  adorns 

the  vale,  .  .  .149 
While  hopeless,  &c,  .  406 
Whistle  an'  I'll  come  to  you, 

my  lad,  .  .  .109 
Whistle  o'er  the  lave  o't,  258 
Why  hangs  that  cloud  ?  143 
Widow,  are  ye  waking?  .  444 
William  and  Margaret,  .  554 
William's  ghost,  .  .  374 
Willie  browed  a  peck  o'  maut,  301 
Willy's  rare  and  Willy's  fair,  542 
Willy  was  a  wanton  wag,  144 
Will  ye  go  and  marry,  Katie,  472 
Wilt  thou  be  my  dearie,  484 
Within  a  mile  of  Edinburgh 

town,  ....  49 
Woe's  my  heart  that  we  should 

sunder,  .  .  .137 
Woo'd  and  married  and  a',  10 

Y. 

Ye  gods,  was  Strephon's  pic- 
ture blest,     .       .       .  182 
Ye  Jacobites  by  name,      .  383 
Ye  Muses  nine,  O  lend  your 

aid,  ....  611 
Ye're  welcome,  Charlie  Stew- 
art, ...  .485 
Yon  wild  mossy  mountains,  340 
You  ask  me,  charming  fair,  584 
Young  Damon,  .  .  186 
Young  Jamie,  pride  of  a'  the 

plain,  ....  433 
Young  Jockey  was  the  blythest 

lad,  ....  297 
Young  Philander,     .       .  230 


INDEX 


MUSICAL  AIRS  INSERTED  IN  THE 
ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Page 

A. 

Ancient  air,          .       .  130 

A  Port,    ...         .  *376 

A  Scottish  march,    .       .  391 

Auld  langsyne,         .       .  375 

Auld  Robin  Gray,    .       .  233 

Ay  wakin',  oh !        .       .  206 

B. 

Battle  of  Harlaw,     .       .  447 

Bruce's  address  to  his  army,  495 

C. 

Cold  and  Raw,         .       .  132 

Come  kiss  with  me,  .       .  325 

D. 

Donald  Couper,       .       .  316 
F. 

Fair  Helen  of  Kirkconnell,  143 
G. 

Green  grows  the  rashes,  *138 
H. 

Hap  me  with  thy  petticoat,  130 

Hardie  Knute,       .       .  268 


Haud  awa'  from  me,  Donald,  318 
Here's  a  health  to  him  that's 

awa',  .  .  .  .371 
Hey,  now  the  day  dawis,  1 63 
Hey,  now  the  day  dawis, 

(2d  sett),  .  .  .495 
Highland  laddie,      .       .  410 


Page 

I. 

I  kist  her  while  she  blusht,  139 
In  January  last,        .       .  396 
I  wish  that  ye  were  dead, 
gudeman,      .       .       .  366 

J. 

Jean  Lindsay's  port,  .  *377 
Joan's  placket,  .  .  129 
Jockie's  fow,  and  Jenny's  fain,  282 
Johnie  Armstrang,  .  .  336 
Jumpin  Joan,  .       .  129 

L. 

Logie  of  Buchan,      .       .  337 

Long  berdes  hertheles,     .  166 

Love  will  find  out  the  way,  140 

M. 

May  her  blest  example  chace,  132 
My  dearie,  an'  thou  die,  86 

O. 

O  dear  minny,  what  shall  I 
do?     .       .       .  .223 

Oh  Nancy,  wilt  thou  go  with 
me,  .       .  .30 

Oran  Gaoil,     .       .  .256 

Over  the  mountains,        .  140 

P. 

Ports  (Highland),         .  *371 
R. 

Rory  Dall's  Port,    .       .  *371 


X 


INDEX. 


s. 

Sandie  o'er  the  lea,  .  257 
Scots  wha  hae  wi'  Wallace 

bled,     ....  495 

Skirving's  lament,     .       .  *194 

T. 

The  auld  Highland  laddie,  410 

The  auld  Jew,         .       .  254 

The  banks  of  Helicon,      .  408 

The  day  dawis,       .       .  163 

The  day  dawis,  (2d  sett),  495 

The  day  dawis,  (3d  sett),  *534 

The  flowers  of  the  Forest,  *403 


Page 

The  Jew's  dochter,          .  503 

The  ploughman's  whistle,  158 

The  rain  rins  down,         .  503 

The  souters  of  Selkirk,     .  390 

This  is  no  mine  ain  house,  210 

Tune  your  fiddles,    .       .  190 

W. 

Who  is  at  my  window  ?     ,  498 

Willie  and  Annet,    .       .  395 

Y. 

Young  Philander,     .       .  214 


1 


INDEX 

OF  THE 

FIRST  LINES  OF  THE  SONGS  IN  THE 
MUSICAL  MUSEUM. 


About  ane  bank  with  balmy 
bewis,  .       .       .  478 

A  cock  laird  fu'  cadgie,    .  155 

A  cogie  of  ale  and  a  pickle 
ait  meal,      .       .  .564 

Adieu!  a  heart  warm  fond 
adieu,  .       .       .  620 

Adieu,  ye  streams  that  smooth- 
ly glide        .       .       .  64 

Ae  day  a  braw  wooer,      .  538 

Ae  fond  kiss  and  then  we 
sever,  .       .       .  358 

A  friend  o'  mine  came  here 
yestreen,      .       .       .  422 

Aftenhae  I  play 'd  at  the  cards 
and  the  dice,         .       .  474 

Ah  !  Chloris  could  I  now  but 
sit,  .  67 

Ah,  Mary,  sweetest  maid,  fare- 
well, .  .  546 

Ah!  sure  a  pair  was  never 
seen,  .        .       .  23 

Ah!    the    poor  shepherd's 
mournful  fate,      .       .  158 

Ah !  why  thus  abandon'd  to 
mourning  and  woe,       .  270 

A  laddie  and  a  lassie,       .  488 

A  lass  that  was  laden'd  with 
care,  .        .       .  60 

All  hail  to  thee,  thou  bawmy 
bud,  .  .  340 

Allan  by  his  grief  excited,  125 

All  lovely  on  the  sultry  beach,  107 

Altho'  I  be  but  a  country  lass,  356 


Altho'  my  back  be  at  the  wa',  494 
Amidst  a  rosy  bank  of  flowers,  186 
Ance  mair  I  hail  thee,  thou 

gloomy  December,  .  .  515 
And  are  ye  sure  the  news  is 

true?  .  44 

And  a'  that  e'er  my  Jenny  had,  5 1 2 
And  gin  ye  meet  a  bonny 

lassie,  .  .  .17 
And  I'll  o'er  the  moor  to 

Maggy,  ...  56 
And  ye  shall  walk  in  silk  attire  249 
An'  I'll  awa  to  bonny  Tweed- 
side,  .  .  580 
An'  I'll  kiss  thee  yet,  yet,  201 
Anna,  thy  charms  my  bosom 

fire>  ■  .  .  .547 
A  nobleman  lived  in  a  village 

of  late,  .  .  .384 
An'  O  for  ane  and  twenty  Tarn,  366 
An'  O  my  Eppie,  .  .  290 
An  thou  were  my  ain  thing,  2 
Argyll  is  my  name,  .  578 

A  rose  bud  by  my  early  walk,  1 97 
As  down  on  Banna's  banks  I 

stray'd,  ...  47 
As  from  a  rock  past  all  relief,  3 
As  I  came  by  Loch  Erroch's 

side,  ...  78 

As  I  came  down  by  yon  castle 

wa',  .  .  336 

As  I  came  in  by  Auchindown,  502 
As  I  came  o'er  the  Cairny 

mount,        .       .  .480 


xii 


INDEX. 


Page 

As  I  lay  on  my  bed  on  a  night,  601 

As  I  stood  by  yon  roofless 
tower,        .        .  .418 

As  I  was  a- walking  all  alone,  382 

As  I  was  a- walking  one  morn- 
ing in  May,        .        .  8 

As  I  was  a-wandering  ae 
midsummer  e'enin,       .  359 

As  I  was  walking  by  yon  river 
side,  .        .  .566 

As  I  went  o'er  the  Highland 
hills,         .         .  .525 

As  I  went  out,  ae  May  morn- 
ing* .        .  .340 

As  I  went  over  yon  meadow,  97 

As  Jamie  Gay  gang' d  blythe 
his  way,      ...  15 

As  late  by  a  sodger  I  chanced 
to  pass,       .       .       .  277 

As  o'er  the  Highland  hills  I 
hied,  .       .  .308 

A  soldier  for  gallant  achieve- 
ments renoun'd,   .       .  608 

As  on  an  eminence  I  stood  a- 
musing,  .         .  282 

As  on  the  banks  of  Tweed  I 
lay  reclined,       .        .  6 

A  Southland  Jenny  that  was 
right  bonie,       ..        .  318 

As  over  Gladsmuir's  blood- 
stain'd  field,        .       .  210 

As  Patie  cam  up  frae  the 
glen,         .        .  .396 

As  Philermon  and  Phillis  to- 
gether did  walk,  .       .  162 

As  Sylvia  in  a  forest  lay,  441 

As  walking  forth  to  view  the 
plain,        -        .  .171 

As  walking  forth  to  view  the 
spring,        .       .  .526 

A'  the  lads  o'  Thornie  bank,  164 

At  Polwarth  on  the  green,  191 

Auld  Rob  Morris  that  wins 

in  yon  glen,  .  .  200 
Auld  Rob  the  laird  o'  muckle 

land,         .        .        .  420 
Awa,  Whigs,  awa',         .  272 
Ay  waking   O,  waking  ay 
and  wearie,        .        .  396 

B. 

Balow,  my  boy,  lie  still  and 

sleep,  .  .  .135 
Bannocks  o'  bear  meal,    .  489 


Behind  yon  hills  where  riv'lets 

row,  .  .  .  600 
Beneath  a  green   shade,  a 

lovely  young  swain,  .  93 
Beneath  a  green  shade  I  fand 

a  fair  maid,  .  .  250 
Bessie's  beauties  shine  sae 

bright,  .  .  .  31 
Betty,  early  gone  a-maying,  66 
Blest  are  the  mortals  above 

all,  453 
Blest  as  the  immortal  gods 

is  he,  .         .  41 

Blythe,  blythe  and  merry  was 

she,  .  .  .  .187 
Blythe  Jocky,  young  and  gay,  30 
Blythe  young  Bess  to  Jean 

did  say,  ...  4 
Bonny  lassie,  will  ye  go,  1 1 5 
Bonny  lassie,  will  ye  go,  116 
Bonie  wee  thing,  canie  wee 

thing,  .  .  .351 
Braw,  braw  lads  o*  Gala 

water,  .  .  .131 
Bright  the  moon  aboon  yon 

mountain,  .  .  .612 
Busk  ye,  busk  ye,  my  bonny 

bride,  ...  65 
But  lately  seen  in  gladsome 

green,  .  .  .501 
By  a  murmuring  stream  a  fair 

shepherdess  lay,  .  .  Ill 
By  Pinky  House  oft  let  me 

walk,  ...  57 
By  smooth  winding  Tay,  68 
By  the  delicious  warmness  of 

thy  mouth,  .  .  262 
By  the  stream  so  cool  and 

clear,  .  .  .  250 
By  yon  castle  wa'  at  the  close 

of  the  day,         .         .  326 

C. 

Carl  an  the  king  come,  .  248 
Ca'  the  yowes  to  the  knowes,  273 
Cauld  blaws  the  wind  frae 

east  to  west,  .  .  147 
Cauld  is  the  e'enin  blast,  603 
Cease,  cease  my  dear  friend 

to  explore,  .  .  254 
Chanticleer,  wi'  noisy  whistle,  568 
Clarinda,  mistress  of  my  soul,  206 
Come  boat  me  o'er,  come  row 

me  o'er,      .       .  .195 


INDEX. 


xiii 


Page 

Come,  follow,  follow,  .  552 
Come,  fy!  let  us  a'  to  the 

wedding,     ...  58 
Come,  gies  a  sang,  Montgom- 
ery cried,     .       .       .  298 
Come,  here's  to  the  nymph 

that  I  love,  .  .  354 
Comin  thro'  the  craigs  o' 

Kyle,        .  .  338 

Comin  thro'  the  rye,  poor 

body,     ■    .  430 
Come,  let's  hae  mair  wine  in,    1 2 
Come  under  my  plaidy,    .  550 
Could  aught  of  song  declare 
my  pain,     .       .       .  509 

D. 

Dear  Myra,  the  captive  rib- 
and's mine,         .       .  266 

Dear  Roger,  if  your  Jenny 
geek,        .  17 

Deil  tak  the  wars  that  hurried 
Willy  frae  me,     .        .  270 

Does  haughty  Gaul  invasion 
threat,        .        .       .  565 

Down  the  burn,  and  through 
the  mead,     .       .       .  101 

Dumbarton  drums  beat  bonie 
O,      ....  169 

F. 

Farewell,  thou  fair  day,  thou 
green  earth,  and  ye  skies,  399 

Farewell  to  a'  our  Scottish 
fame,        .  391 

Farewell  to  Lochaber,  and 
farewell  my  Jean,        .  96 

Farewell,  ye  dungeons  dark 
and  strong,  .       .  117 

Farewell,  ye  fields  an'  mea- 
dows green,        .        .  597 

Fate  gave  the  word,  the  arrow 
.sped,         .       '.       .  280 

First  when  Maggy  was  my 
care,         .         .       .  258 

Flow  gently,  sweet  Afton,  a- 
mong  thy  green  braes,  400 

Forbear,  gentle  youth,  to  pur- 
sue me  in  vain,    .       .  344 

For  ever,  fortune,  wilt  thou 
prove,        ...  42 

For  lake  o'  gold  she's  left 
me  O,        .        .        .  171 

For  weel  he  kend  the  way  O,  505 


Frae  Dunidier  as  I  cam 
through,      .       .       .  528 

Frae  the  friends  and  land  I 
love,    .       .       .  .312 

From  Roslin  castle's  echoing 
walls,        ...  9 

Fu'  fain  wad  I  be  Jamie's  lass,  478 

G. 

Gane  is  the  day  and  mirk's 

the  night,  .  .  323 
Gat  ye  me,  O  gat  ye  me,  442 
Gently    blaw,    ye  eastern 

breezes,  .  .  .581 
Gie  me  a  lass  wi'  a  lump  o' 

land,  .  .  .177 
Gill  Moricewasan  earle's  son,  212 
Gin  a  body  meet  a  body,  431 
Gin  I  had  a  wee  house,  and  a 

canty  wee  fire,  .  .  98 
Gin  living  worth  could  win 

my  heart,  .  .  .  252 
Go  fetch  to  me  a  pint  o'  wine,  240 
Good  morrow,  fair  mistress,  502 
Go  on,  sweet  bird,  and  soothe 

my  care,  .  .  .198 
Go,  plaintive  sounds,  .  595 
Go  to  Berwick,  Johnny,  .  534 
Grahamius  notabilis  coegerat 

montanos,  .  .  .103 
Gudeen  to  you,  kimmer,  540 

H. 

Had  I  a  heart  for  falsehood 

fram'd,  ...  47 
Had  I  the  wyte,  had  I  the 

wyte,  .  427 
Happy  's  the  love  which  meets 

return,  ...  74 
Hard  is  the  fate  of  him  who 

loves,  .  .  .  610 
Harken  and  I  will  tell  you 

how,  .  .  .  380 
Hark!  the  loud  tempest  shakes 

earth  to  its  centre,  .  226 
Hark !  yonder  eagle  lonely 

wails,  .  .  .  237 
Have  ye  any  pots  or  pans,  536 
Hear  me,  ye  nymphs,  and 

every  swain,  .  .  81 
Hee,  balou,  my  sweet  wee 

Donald,  .  .  .486 
Her  daddie  forbad,  her  min- 

nie  forbad,        .         .  145 


XIV 


INDEX. 


Here  aw  a,  there  awa,  here 

awa,  Willie,  .  .  58 
Here's  a  health  to  them  that's 

awa,  ....  425 
Here's  to  the  king,  sir,  .  178 
Here's  to  thy  health,  my  bonie 

lass,  .  .  .  .511 
Hersell  be  Highland  shentle- 

man,  .  .  .  24 
He  who  presum'd  to  guide 

the  sun,  .  .  .115 
Hey,  Donald,  how  Donald.  344 
Hey  how,  my  Johnie  lad,  368 
Hey !  my  kitten,  my  kitten,  577 
Hey  the  bony,  hey  the  bony,  222 
Hey  the  dusty  miller,  .  151 
Hid  from  himself  now  by  the 

dawn,  .  .  .  260 
How  blest  has  my  time  been,  20 
How  blythe  was  I  each  morn 

to  see,  ...  70 
How  long  and  dreary  is  the 

night,  .  .  .183 
How  often  my  heart  has  by 

love  been  o'erthrown,  .  482 
How  pleasant  the  banks  of  the 

clear  winding  Devon,  .  165 
How  sweet  is  the  scene  at  the 

dawning  o'  morning,    .  586 
How  sweet  this  lone  vale,  588 
How  sweetly  smells  the  sim- 
mer green,  .       .       .  61 

I. 

I  am  a  young  bachelor,  win- 
some, ....  556 
I  am  my  mammy's  ae  bairn,   1 10 
I  care  na  for  your  een  sae 

blue,  ....  619 
I  chanced  to  meet  an  airy 

blade,  .  .  .  504 
I  coft  a  stane  o'  haslock  woo,  449 
I  do  confess  thou  art  sae  fair,  332 
I  dream'd  I  lay  where  flowers 

were  springing,  .  .  153 
I  gaed  a  waefu'  gate  yestreen,  304 
I  had  a  horse  and  I  had  nae 

mair,  ....  193 
I  hae  a  wife  o'  my  ain,  .  364 
I  hae  been  at  Crookieden,  342 
I  hae  laid  a  herring  in  s  A,  253 
I'll  ay  ca'  in  by  yon  town,  470 
I  lo'e  nae  a  laddie  but  ane,  276 


I  love  my  jovial  sailor,  .  404 
I  married  with  a  scolding  wife,  99 
In  April  when  primroses  paint 

the  sweet  plain,  .  .  127 
In   Brechin  did  a  wabster 

dwell,  .  .  .  .541 
In  comin'  by  the  brig  o'  Dye,  164 
In  lovely  August  last,  .  457 
In  May  when  the  daisies  ap- 
pear on  the  green,  .  286 
In  Scotland  there  lived  a  hum- 
ble beggar,  .  .  435 
In  summer  when  the  hay  was 

maun,  .  •  .  376 
In  the  hall  I  lay  at  night,  119 
In  the  garb  of  old  Gaul,  218 
In  winter  when  the  rain  rain'd 

cauld,  .       .       .  258 

In  yon  garden  fine  and  gay,  582 
I  sing  of  a  whistle,  a  whistle  of 

worth,  .  .  .  324 
It  fell  about  the  Martinmas 

time,  ....  310 
It  is  na,  Jean,  thy  bonnie  face,  343 
It  is  night,  I  am  alone,  .  123 
It's  up  wi'  the  souters  o'  Sel- 
kirk, ....  450 
It's  whisper'd  in  parlour,  474 
It  was  a'  for  our  rightfu' 

king,   ....  513 
It  was  in  and  about  the  Mar- 
tinmas time,         .       .  230 
It  was  in  an  evening  sae  saft 

and  sae  clear,  .  .  113 
It  was  in  sweet  Senegal,  398 
I've  been  courting  at  a  lass,  316 
I  who  am  sore  oppress'd  with 

love,    ....  154 
I  will  awa'  wi'  my  love,    .  175 
I  winna  marry  ony  man  but 
Sandy  o'er  the  lea,       .  283 

J. 

Jamie,  come  try  me,  .  238 
Jenny's  heart  was  frank  and 

free,  ....  28 
Jockey  fou  and  Jenny  fain,  395 
Jockey  he  came  here  to  woo,  175 
Jockey  met  with  Jenny  fair,  62 
Jockey  said  to  Jenny,  .  62 
Jockey's  ta'en   the  parting 

kiss,  ....  589 
John  Anderson,  my  jo,  John,  269 


INDEX. 


XV 


Keen  blaws  the  wind  o'er 
Donocht  head,     .       .  388 

L. 

Landlady,  count  the  lawin',  178 
Lang  hae  we  parted  been,  227 
Late  in  an  evening  forth  I 

went,  ....  328 
Leander  on  the  bay,  .  27 
Leave  kindred  and  friends, 

sweet  Betty,  .  .  52 
Let  ithers  brag  weel  o'  their 

gear,  .  .  .  .276 
Little  wat  ye  wha's  coming,  591 
Lived  ance  two  lovers 'in  yon 

dale,  .  .  .  .616 
Look  where  my  dear  Hamilla 

smiles,  .  .  .  m 
Lord  Thomas  and  fair  Annet,  553 
Loud  blaw  the  frosty  breezes,  150 
Louis,  what  reck  I  by  thee,  427 
Love  never  more  shall  give 

me  pain,  ...  83 
Love's  goddess  in  a  myrtle 

grove,         ...  55 

M. 

Mourn,  hapless  Caledonia, 

mourn,  .  .  .147 
My  bonny  Lizie  Baillie,  469 
My  daddy  is  a  canker'd  carle,  91 
My  daddy  left  me  gear  enough,  542 
My  dear  and  only  love,  I  pray,  464 
My  father  has  forty  good 

shillings,  .  .  .465 
My  Harry  was  a  gallant  gay,  218 
My  heart  is  a  breaking,  dear 

titty,  .  .  .  .306 
My  heart  is  sair,  I  dare  na  tell,  448 
My  heart's  in  the  Highlands,  268 
My  heart  was  ance  as  blythe 

and  free,  .  .  .106 
My  hero,  my  hero,  my  beau- 
teous, my  brave,  .  .  352 
My  Jeany  and  I  have  toil'd,  590 
My  J ockey  is  the  blithest  lad,  25 
My  laddie  is  gane  far  away 

o'er  the  plain,  .  .  16 
My  lady's  gown  there's  gairs 

upon't,  .  .  .573 
My  loved  Celestia  is  so  fair,  160 
My  love  has  forsaken  me,  159 
My  love  she's  but  a  lassie  yet,  234 


My  love  was  born  in  Aber- 
deen,   .       .       .  .281 
My  love  was  once  a  bonny  lad,  14 
My  mither's  ay  glowran  o'er 

me,  ]80 
My  Patie  is  a  lover  gay,  94 
My  Peggy  is  a  young  thing,  88 
My  Peggy's  face,  my  Peggy's 

form,  .  .  .  .517 
My  Sandy  gied  to  me  a  ring,  213 
My  sheep  I've  forsaken,  .  94 
My  soger  laddie  is  over  the  sea,  334 
My  wife's  a  wanton  wee  thing,  226 
Musing  on  the  roaring  ocean,  187 

N. 

Nae  gentle  dames,  tho'  ne'er 
so  fair,         .       .       .  121 

No  churchman  am  I  for  to 
rail  and  to  write,   .       .  606 

No  more  my  song  shall  be,  ye 
swains,        ...  1 

No  repose  can  I  discover,  .  131 

Now^  bank  and  brae  are 
claith'd  in  green,  .       .  537 

Now  smiling  Spring  again 
appears,       ...  28 

Now    Nature    hangs  her 

mantle  green,    .       .  417 

Now  wat  ye  wha  I  met  ye- 
streen,        .       .  .179 

Now  westlin  winds  and 
slaughterin'  guns,         .  363 

O. 

O  all  ye  luves  and  groves  la- 
ment, .  .  .  .408 
O  an  ye  war  dead  gudeman,  421 
O  as  I  was  kist  yestreen,  .  330 
O  ay  my  wife  she  dang  me,  549 
O  Bell,  thy  looks  have  kill'd 

my  heart,  .  .  .146 
O  Bessy  Bell  and  Mary  Gray,  134 
O  Both  well  bank,  thou  bloom- 

est  fair,  .  .  .  529 
O  cam  ye  here  the  fight  to 

shun,  .  .  .  .290 
O  can  ye  labor  lea,  young  man,  407 
O  can  ye  sew  cushions,  .  456 
O  cherub  content,  .  .  526 
O  dear  minnie  what  shall  I  do,  245 
O  dear  Peggy,  love's  beguil- 
ing, .  .  .  -  245 
Odear!  what  can  the  matter  be,  510 


xvi 


INDEX. 


Page 

O  dinna  think,  bonnie  lassie,  574 
O  fare  ye  weel,  my  auld  wife,  365 
Of  a'  the  airts  the  wind  can 

blaw,  ....  244 
O  for  my  ain  king,  quo'  gude 

Wallace,  .  .  .  498 
O  gae  to  the  kye  wi'  me, 

Johnie,  .  .  .  142 
O  Galloway  Tam  cam  here 

to  woo,  .  .  .  336 
O  gin  I  were  fairly  shot  o'  her,  576 
O  gin  my  love  were  yon  red 

rose,  .  .  614 
O  gude  ale  comes,  .  .  561 
O  heard  ye  of  a  silly  Harper,  598 
Oh !  I  am  come  to  the  low 

countrie,  .  .  .  514 
Oh  open  the  door,  Lord  Gre- 
gory, .  ...  5 
0  how  can  I  be  blythe  and 

glad,  ....  328 
O  how  shall  I  unskilfu'  try,  360 
Oh !  send  Lewis  Gordonhame,  87 
Oh  was  not  I  a  weary  wight,  90 
O  I  forbid  you,  maidens  a',  423 
O  I  hae  lost  my  silken  snood,  32 
O  John,  come  kiss  me  now,  315 
O  keep  ye  weel  frae  Sir  John 

Malcolm,  .  .  .468 
O  Kenmure's  on  an'  awa', 

Willie,  .  .  .370 
O  ken  ye  what  Meg  o'  the 

mill  has  gotten,  .  .  585 
O  ladie,  I  maun  lo'e  thee,  320 
O  Lady  Mary  Ann  looks  o'er 

the  castle  wa',  .  .  390 
O  lay  thy  loof  in  mine,  lass,  593 
O  leave  novels,  ye  Mauchlin 

belles,  .  .  .592 
O  leeze  me  on  my  spinning 

wheel,  .  .  .371 
O  let  me  in  this  ae  night,  320 
O  Logie  o'  Buchan,  O  Logie 

the  laird,  .  .  .  368 
O  lovely  maid,  how  dear's 

thy  power,  ...  42 
O  lovely  Polly  Stewart,  .  485 
O  love,  thou  delights  in  man's 

ruin,  .  .  .  .413 
O  luve  will  venture,  .  386 
O   Mally's    meek,  Mally's 

sweet,  .  .  .  617 
O  Mary,  turn  awa  that  bonny 

face,    ....  560 


O  Mary,  ye's  be  clad  in  silk,  605 

O  May,  thy  morn  was  ne'er 
sae  sweet,    .       .       .  477 

O  meikle  thinks  my  love  o' 
my  beauty,   .       .       .  322 

O  merry  hae  I  been  teethen  a 
heckle,        .       .       .  279 

O  merry  may  the  maid  be,  129 

O  mighty  Nature's  handy- 
work,  .       .       .  314 

O  mither  dear,  I  'gin  to  fear,  133 

O  Molly,  Molly,  my  dear 
honey,         .       .       .  132 

O  mount  and  go,     .       .  242 

O  my  love's  like  a  red,  red 
rose,    ....  415 

On  a  bank  of  flowers  in  a  sum- 
mer day,      .       .       .  232 

O  Nannie,  wilt  thou  gang  wi* 
me,      ....  33 

On  a  rock  by  seas  surround- 
ed,     ...  107 

One  day  I  heard  Mary  say,  92 

One  morning  very  early,  one 
morning  in  the  Spring,  46 

One  night  as  young  Colin  lay 
musing  in  bed,      .       .  151 

One  night  I  dream'd  I  lay 
most  easy,    .       .       .  131 

On  Etrick  banks  ae  summer's 
night,  ...  82 

O  once  I  lov'd  a  bonnie  lass,  570 

O  sad  and  heavy  should  I 
part,     ....  461 

O  Sandy,  why  leaves  thou  thy 
Nelly  to  mourn,   .       .  161 

O  saw  ye  Jenny  Nettles,  53 

O  saw  ye  my  dearie,  my  Eppie 
M'Nab,       .       ...  346 

O  saw  ye  my  father,        .  77 

O  see  that  form  that  faintly 
gleams,        .       .       .  71 

O  steer  her  up  and  had  her 

gaun,       .       .       .  520 

O  tell  me,  my  bonny  young 
lassie,  ....  558 

O  that  I  had  ne'er  been  mar- 
ried,    .       ...  613 

O  that  I  were  where  Helen 
lies,     .       .       .  .163 

O  this  is  no  my  ain  house,  225 

O  turn  away  those  cruel  eyes,  604 

Our  auld  King  Coul  was  a 
jolly  auld  soul,     .       .  486 


INDEX. 


xvii 


Page 

Our  goodman  came  harae  at 
e'en,     ....  466 

Our  lords  are  to  the  moun- 
tains gane,    .       .       .  312 

Our  young  lady's  a-hunting 
gane,   .       .       .  .437 

Out  over  the  Forth,  I  look  to 
the  North,    .       .       .  434 

O  waly,  waly,  up  yon  bank,    1 66 

O  waly,  waly,  up  yon  bank,  458 

O  wat  ye  wha's  in  yon  town,  471 

O  weel  may  the  boatie  row,  438 

O  were  I  able  to  rehearse,  302 

O  were  I  on  Parnassus'  hill,  264 

O  wha  my  babie  clouts  will 
buy,     ....  286 

O  whar  did  ye  get  that 
hauver  meal  bannock,    .  100 

O  what  had  I  ado  for  to 
marry,         .       .  .199 

O  when  she  cam  ben  she  bob- 
bit,      ....  364 

O  where  and  O  where  does 
your  Highland  laddie 
dwell,         .       .       .  566 

O  where  hae  ye  been,  Lord 
Ronald  my  son,     .       .  337 

O  where  wad  bonnie  Annie 
lie,      .       .       .  .335 

O  whistle,  an'  I'll  come  to  you 
my  lad,        .       .  .109 

O  Willie  brew'd  a  peck  o' 
maut,  .       .  .301 

O  wilt  thou  go  wi'  me,  sweet 
Tibbie  Dunbar,    .       .  216 

P. 

Pain'd  with  her  slighting 
Jamie's  love,        .       .  18 

Peggy,  now  the  king's  come,  248 

Powers  celestial,  whose  pro- 
tection,       .       .       .  473 

Put  the  gown  upon  the 
bishop,         .       .       .  462 

Q. 

Quite  over  the  mountains,  157 
R. 

Rattlin,  roarin  Willie,  .  202 

Raving  winds  around  her 

blowing,      .       .  .181 

Red  gleams  the  sun  on  yon 

hill  tap,       .       .  .519 


Page 

Return  hameward  my  heart 

again,  .  .  .  572 
Robin  is  my  only  joe,  .  492 
Robin  shure  in  hairst,  .  562 
Row  saftly  thou  stream,  .  524 
Roy's  wife  of  Aldivalloch,  352 

S 

Sae  flaxen  were  her  ringlets,  458 
Saw  ye  Johnnie  cummin'  quo' 

she,  ....  10 
Saw  ye  my  wee'  thing,  .  454 
Saw  ye  nae  my  Peggy,  .  1 2 
Saw  ye  the  thane  o'  meikle 

pride,  .       .  .594 

Scenes  of  woe  and  scenes  of 

pleasure,  .  .  .  533 
Scots  wha  hae  wi'  Wallace 

bled,  .  .  .  .596 
Se  do  mholla  mholla  mholla,  274 
Sensibility  how  charming,  339 
She's  fair  and  fause  thatcaus'd 

my  smart,  .  .  .411 
She  sat  down  below  a  thorn,  331 
She  took  me  in  and  set  me 

down,  .       .       .  188 

Should  auld  acquaintance  be 

forgot,  ...  26 
Should  auld  acquaintance  be 

forgot,  .  .  .426 
Simmer's  a  pleasant  time,  222 
Since  all  thy  vows,  false  maid,  207 
Since  robb'd   of    all  that 

charm'd  my  view,  .  184 
Sir  John  Cope  trode  the  north 

right  far,  .  .  .  242 
Sleepy  body,  drousy  body,  404 
Slow  spreads  the  gloom  my 

soul  desires,  .  .  516 
Some  spieks  of  lords,  some 

spieks  of  lairds,  .  .  367 
Speak  on,  speak  thus  and  still 

my  grief,  .  .  .137 
Stately    stept  he  east  the 

wa',  ....  289 
Stay  my  charmer,  can  you 

leave  me,  .  .  .135 
Stern  winter  has  left  us,  .  544 
Sun,  gallop  down  the  westlin 

skies,    ....  263 
Sure  my  Jean  is  beauty's  blos- 
som,   ....  587 
Sweet  Annie  frae  the  sea- 
beach  came,         .       .  85 


xvm 


INDEX. 


Sweet  closes  the  evening  on 
Craigieburn  wood,       .  311 

Sweetest  May,  let  love  inspire 
thee,    .       .       .  .578 

Sweet  nursling  of  the  tears  of 
morning,      .       .       .  254 

Sweet  nymph  of  my  devo- 
tion,    .       .       .  .419 

Sweet  sir,  for  your  courtesie,  1 14 

T. 

Talk  not  of  love,  it  gives  me 

pain,  ....  194 
Tarry  woo,  O  tarry  woo,  45 
Tell  me  Jessy,  tell  me,  .  618 
The  auld  man  he  came  over 

the  lea,  .  .  .  439 
The  auld  man's  mare's  dead,  500 
The  auld  wife  beyond  the  fire,  446 
The  blude  red  rose  at  Yule 

may  blaw,  .  .  .190 
The  bonniest  lad  that  e'er  I 

saw,  ....  484 
The  bonny  brucket  lassie,  69 
The  bonny  grey-eyed  morn- 
ing, ....  80 
The  bride  cam  out  of  the  by  re,  1 0 
The  Campbells  are  comin',  309 
The  carl  he  cam  o'er  the 

craft,  .       .       .  141 

The  Catrine  woods  were  yel- 
low seen,      .       .       .  285 
The  Chevalier  being  void  of 

fear,  .  .  .  .103 
The  collier  has  a  daughter,  48 
The  country  swain  that  haunts 

the  plain,  .  .  .  316 
The  day  returns,  my  bosom 

burns,  .  .  .  .  233 
The  Deil  cam  fiddlin  thro' 

the  town,  .  .  .  412 
The  deucks   dang  o'er  my 

daddy,  .  .  .409 
The   Duke  of  Gordon  has 

three  daughters,  .  .  431 
The  fields  were  green,  the 

hills  were  gray,  .  .  29 
The  gloomy  night  is  gath'ring 

fast,  ....  293 
The  gypsies  cam  to  our  gude 

lord's  yett,  .       .  189 

The  king  sits  in  Dunfermline 

toune,  .       .       .  406 

The  lass  of  Pcaty's  Mill,  .  21 


The  last  time  I  came  o'er  the 

moor,  .  .  .  ,  \y 
The  Lawland  lads  think  they 

are  fine,  ...  22 
The  Lawland  maids  gang 

trig  and  fine,  .  .  23 
The  lazy  mist  hangs  from  the 

brow  of  the  hill,  .  .  241 
The  love  that  I  hae  chosen,  1 18 
The  lovely  lass  of  Inverness,  414 
The  maid's  gane  to  the  mill 

by  night,  .  .  .494 
The  maltman  comes  on  Mon- 

onday,  .  .  .445 
The  meal  was  dear  short 

syne,  .       .  .238 

The  moon  had  climb'd  the 

highest  hill,  .  .  38 
The  morn  was  fair,  saft  was 

the  air,  .  .  .  220 
The  night  her  silent  sable 

wore,  ....  84 
The  night  is  my  departing 

night,  .  .  .  .620 
The    noble    Maxwells  and 

their  powers,  .  .  375 
The  nymphs  and  shepherds 

are  met  on  the  green,  .  574 
The  ploughman  he's  a  bonie 

lad,  ....  173 
The  queen  0'  the  Lothians 

cam  cruisin  to  Fife,  .  539 
The  pawkie  auld  carl  came 

over  the  lea,  .  .  234 
The  rain  rins  down  thro' 

Merryland  toune,  .  602 
The  robin  came  to  the  wren's 

nest,  ....  419 
There  came  a  ghost  to  Mar- 
garet's door,        .       .  374 
There  came  a  young  man  to 

my  daddie's  door,  .  228 
There  grows  a  bonie  brier 

bush,   ....  508 
There  lived  a  carl  in  Kelly- 
burn  braes,  .       .       .  392 
There  liv'd  a  man  in  yonder 

glen,  ....  376 
There  liv'd  a  wife  in  our  gate 

end,     .       .       .       .  306 
There  Nancy's  to  the  green- 
wood gane,  ...  50 
There's  a  youth  in  this  city, 
it  were  a  pity,       .       .  266 


INDEX. 


xix 


Page 

There's  cauld  kail  in  Aber- 
deen,  ....  170 
There's  fouth  of  braw  Jockies 

and  Jennies,  .  .  462 
There's  news,  lasses,  news,  609 
There's  nought  but  care  on 

every  hand,  .  .  78 
There's  three  gude-fellows,  454 
There  was  a  battle  in  the 

north,  .  .  .  375 
There  was  a  bonie  lass,  .  606 
There  was  an  auld  wife  had  a 

wee  pickle  tow,  .  .  450 
There  was  anee  a  may,  .  126 
There  was  a  jolly  beggar,  274 
There  was  a  lass,  they  ca'd  her 

Meg,  ....  156 
There  was  a  noble  lady,  .  582 
There  was  a  silly  shepherd 

swain,  .  .  .  490 
There  was  a  wee  bit  wiffikie,  506 
There  was  a  wife  wonn'd  in 

Cockpen,  .  .  .  558 
The  shepherd  Adonis,  .  167 
The  shepherd's  wife  cries  o'er 

theknowe,  .  .  .  372 
The  silver  moon's  enamour'd 

beams,         .       .       .  36 
The  smiling  morn,  the  breath- 
ing spring,   ...  73 
The  smiling  plains  profusely 

gay,  ....  213 
The  smiling  spring  comes  in 

rejoicing,  .  .  .401 
The  spring  time  returns,  .  246 
The  sun  in  the  west,  .  557 
The  tailor  fell  thro'  the  bed, 

thimble  an  a',  .  .  221 
The  tears  I  shed  must  ever 

fall,      ....  350 
The  Thames  flows  proudly,  305 
The  tither  morn  when  I  for- 
lorn,    .       .       .       .  355 
The  weary  pund,  the  weary 

pund,  ....  362 
The  widow  can  bake,  .  130 
The  winter  it  is  past,  .  208 
The  wren  scho  lyes  in  care's 

bed,  ....  497 
The  yellow  hair'd  laddie  sat 

on  yon  burn  brae,        .      1 28 
They  say  that  Jocky  '11  speed 
weelo't,       .       .       .  278 


Thickest  night,  surround  my 

dwelling,  .  .  .  138 
Tho'  cruel  fate  should  bid  us 

part,  ....  122 
Tho'  for  seven  years  and 

mair,  .       .  .522 

Thou  art  gane  awa,  thou  art 

gane  awa,  .  .  .  348 
Thou   ling'ring  star,  with 

less'ning  ray,  .  .  288 
Though    distant    far  from 

Jessy's  charms,  .  72 

Tho'  women's  minds  like  win- 
ter winds,  .  .  .  300 
Thy  cheek  is  o'  the  rose's  hue,  548 
Thy  praise  I'll  ever  celebrate,  274 
Tibbie  Fowler  o'  the  glen,  452 
Tibbie,  I  hae  seen  the  day,  203 
'Tis  nae  very  lang  sinsyne,  569 
To  fly  like  bird  from  grove  to 

grove,  ...  25 
To  me  what  are  riches  en- 

cumber'd  with  care,  .  174 
Twa  bonie  lads  were  Sandy 

and  Jockey,  .  .  292 
'Twas  at  the  hour  of  dark 

midnight,  .  .  .214 
'Twas  at  the  shining  midday 

hour,  .       .       .  534 

'Twas  at  the  silent  solemn 

hour,  ....  554 
'Twas  in  that  season  of  the 

year,  ....  9 
'Twas  on  a  Monday  morning,  440 
'Twas  past  ane  o'clock  in  a 

cold  frosty  morning,  .  236 
'Twas  summer  and  softly  the 

breezes,  .  .  .  532 
'Twas  within  a  mile  of  Edin- 
burgh town,  .  .  49 
Tune  your  fiddles,  tune  them 

sweetly,  .  .  .  208 
Turn  again,  thou  fair  Eliza,  378 

U. 

Ullin,  Carril  and  Ryno,    .  265 

Up  amang  yon  cliffy  rocks,  40 

Up  and  warn  a'  Willie,    .  195 

Up  wi'  the  carls  of  Dysart,  405 

W. 

Wae  is  my  heart,  and  the 
tear's  in  my  e'e,    .       .  490 


XX 


INDEX. 


Pago 

Waes  me  that  e'er  I  made 

your  bed,  .  .  .  246 
Wantonness  for  ever  mair,  435 
Wap  and  row,  wap  and  row,  470 
Water  parted  from  the  sea,  39 
Weary  fa'  you,  Duncan  Gray,  168 
Wee  Willie  Gray,  .  .  530 
Well  hide  the  cooper  behind 

the  door,  .  .  .  442 
Well,  I  agree,  ye're  sure  o'  me,  176 
We'll  put  the  sheep-head  in 

the  pat,  .  .  »  493 
Were  I  assured  you'd  constant 

prove,  .  257 
Wha  is  that  at  my  chamber 

door,  ....  444 
Whare  are  ye  gaun  my  bony 

lass,  29S 
Whare  Esk  its  silver  current 

leads,  .       .       .  522 

Whare  hae  ye  been  sae  braw, 

lad,  ....  302 
Whare  live  ye,  my  bonie  lass,  372 
Whar  hae  ye  been  a'  day,  my 

boy  Tammy,  .  -  518 
Wha's  that  at  my  bower  door,  347 
What  beauties  does  Flora  dis- 
close, ....  37 
What  can  a  young  lassie,  327 
What    numbers    shall  the 

Muse  repeat,  .  .  43 
What  think  ye  o'  the  scorn- 

fu'  quine,  .  .  .  476 
What  will  I  do  gin  my  hog- 

gie  die,  .  .  .139 
What  words,  dear  Nancy,  will 

prevail,  .  .  .140 
Wha  wadna  be  in  love  wi' 

bonny  Maggy  Lauder,  .  562 
When  absent  from  the  nymph 

I  love,  ...  54 
When,  dear  Evanthe,we  were 

young,  .  .  .  394 
When  first  I  came  to  be  a 

man,  ....  294 
When  first  my  brave  Johnie 

lad,  .  .  .  .319 
When  first  my  dear  laddie 

gaed  to  the  green  hill,  .  128 
When  Frennet  castle's  ivy'd 

wall,  •  296 
When  Guilford  good  our  pilot 

stood,         .       .  .102 


When  I  gaed  to  the  mill  my 

lane,  .  .  .  .521 
When  I  have  asixpence  under 

my  thumb,  .  .  .  284 
When  I  think  on  my  lad,  570 
When  I  think  on  this  warld's 

pelf,  ....  34 
When  I  upon  thy  bosom  lean,  214 
When  I  was  a  young  lad  my 

fortune  was  bad,  .  332 

When  Januar  wind  was  blaw- 

ing,  ....  460 
When  merry  hearts  were  gay,  261 
When  rosy  May  comes  in  wi' 

flowers,  .  .  .  229 
When  summer  comes,  the 

swains  on  Tweed,  .  71 
When  the   days   they  are 

lang,  ....  530 
When  the  sheep  are  in  the 

fauld,  .       .       .  256 

When   trees  did  bud,  and 

fields  were  green,         .  75 
When  west  winds  did  blow,  217 
Where  braving  angry  win- 
ter's storms,         .       .  203 
Where  Cart  rins  rowin  to  the 

sea,  ....  403 
Wherefore  sighing  art  thou 

Phillis,  .  .  .473 
Where  waving  pines  salute 

the  skies,  .  .  .  205 
Where  winding  Forth  adorns 

the  vale,  .  .  .149 
While  fops  in  saft  Italian 

verse,  ...  34 

While  hopeless  and  almost 

reduced  to  despair,  .  406 
While    some    for  pleasure 

pawn  their  health,  .  89 
Why  hangs  that  cloud  upon 

thy  brow,  .  .  .  143 
Willie  was  a  wanton  wag,  144 
Willie    Wastle    dwalt  on 

Tweed,  .  .  .389 
Wilt  thou  be  my  dearie,  .  484 
Will  ye  gang  o'er  the  lea-rig,  50 
Will  ye  go  and  marry,  Katie,  472 
Will  ye  go  to  the  ewe-bughts, 

Marion,  ...  86 
Will  ye  go  to  the  Highlands, 

Leezie  Lindsay,  .  .  446 
Willy's  rare  and  Willy's  fair,  542 


INDEX. 


XXI 


With   broken    words  and 
downcast  eyes, 


Ye  banks  and  braes  o'  bonnie 
Down, 

Ye  gales  that  gently  wave  the 
sea, 

Ye  gallants  bright  I  red  you 

right,  •       •  ,  \ 

Ye  gods  was  Strephon  s  pic- 
ture blest,     .       •  - 
Ye  Highlands  and  ye  Law- 
lands, 

Ye  Jacobites  by  name  give  an 
ear,  .... 

Ye  Muses  nine,  O  lend  your 
aid,  . 

Ye  Muses  nine,  O  lend  your 
aid,  .... 


Page 

137 

387 
13 
224 
182 
185 
383 
1 

611 


Page 

Ye  rivers  so  limpid  and  clear,  191 
Ye  sylvan  pow'rs  that  rule 

the  plain,  ...  76 
Ye  watchful  guardians  of  the 

Fair,  .  .  .  .  302 
Yon  wild  mossy  mountains,  340 
You  ask  me,  charming  fair,  584 
Young  Jamie  pride  of  a'  the 

plain,  .       .       •  433 

Young  Jockie  was  the  blyth- 

estlad,  .  .  .  .297 
Young  Peggy  blooms  our 

boniest  lass,  .  .  79 
Young  Philander  woo'd  me 

lang,  ....  230 
You  sing  of  our  goodman  frae 

hame,         .       .  .614 


2  R 


INDEX 

OF  THE 

FIRST  LINES  OF  SONGS  OR  POEMS, 

INSERTED  IN  THE  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Page 

A. 

A  cock  laird  fu'  cadgie,  .  137 
Ae  day  a  braw  wooer  came 

down  the  lang  glen,  .  461 
Ae  simmer  night,  on  Logan 

braes,  ...  42 
Ah !  my  love !  leif  me  not,  93 
Alas,  my  son,  you  little  know,  101 
All  health  be  round  Balcarras' 

board,  .  .  .  *128 
And  from  home  I  wou'd  be,  *387 
As  I  came  in  by  Fisherrow,  122 
As  I  stood  by  yon  roofless 

tower,  .  .  .  363 
As  I  went  forth  to  view  the 

plain,  .  .  .  152 
As  Sylvia  in  a  forest  lay,  58 
As  the  gentle  turtle-dove,  55 
Astrea,  why  so  pale  and  sad,  *1 19 
At  gloamin,  if  my  lane  I  be,  53 
At  setting   day  and  rising 

morn,  .  .  .  433 
Awake,  my  love,  with  genial 

ray,        ...  80 

B. 

Balow,  my  boy,  lie  still  and 

sleep,  .  .  124 

Behind  yon  hills  where  Lugar 

flows,  .  .  91 

Behold,  my  love,  how  green 

the  groves,  .  .  79 
Be  lordly,  lassie,  be  lordly,  504 
Blink  o'er  the  burn,  sweet 

Betty,         .  .  55 


Bonny  Peggy  Ramsay,  504 

Born  with  too  much  fickle- 
ness, &c.       .  .  «401 

Born  with  too  much  sensibili- 
ty, &c.         .  .  *400 

Braw,  braw  lads  of  Gala 
Water,         .  .  121 

Bra',  bra'  lads  o'  Gala  Wa- 
ter,   .       .       .       .  *408 

But  are  ye  sure  the  news  is 
true,       .  .  *117 

By  Logan's  streams  that  rin 
sae  deep,        .  .  42 

C. 

Can  I  cease  to  care  ?  .  207 
Canst  thou  leave  me  thus, 

my  Katy  ?  .  .  145 
Ca'  the  yowes  to  the  knowes,  248 
Cauld  kale  in  Aberdeen,  150 
Come  all  ye  souls  devoid  of 

art,  .  .  424 

Come,  gie's  a  sang,  Mont- 
gomery cry'd,  .  283 
Come,  take  your  glass,  the 

northern  lass,     .       .  118 
Cope  sent  a  challenge  frae 
Dunbar,         .  .  220 

D. 

Dead  as  a  door-nail,  .  *146 
Dear  Oswald,  could  my  verse 

as  smoothly  flow,  .  *406 
Declare,  ye  banks  of  Helicon,  408 


INDEX. 


xxiii 


Did  ever  swain  a  nymph 
adore,         .       .       .  *447 

Donald  Couper  and  his  man,  316 

Down  in  yon  meadow  a  cou- 
ple did  tarrie,     .       .  181 

Duncan  Gray  cam  here  to 
woo,  .  .  148 

Dusty  was  his  coat,        .  *207 

E. 

Every  day  my  wife  tells  me,  305 
Ewie  wi'  the  crooked  horn,  #412 

F. 

Farewell,  thou  fair  day,  thou 
green  earth,  and  ye  skies,  354 

Father,  she  said,  you  have 
done  me  wrang,         .  #388 

Fiddle  strings  are  dear,  laddie,  491 

Forlorn,  my  love,  no  comfort 
near,        .        .  .303 

Frae  Dunideir  as  I  cam 
through,  .  .  447 

From  the  chase  in  the  moun- 
tain,       .        .  .170 

G. 

Gil  Morice  was  an  erle's  son,  193 
Gin  ye  meet  a  bonnie  lassie,  16 
Go,  go,  go— Go  to  Berwick, 

Johnny,  .  .  459 

Good  night,  and  joy  be  wi' 

ye  a',  .  512 

Great  William  of  Nassau, 

who  saved  us  from  Rome,  13 

H. 

Had  I  the  power  as  I've  the 

will,  .  .  .415 
Had  we  never  loved  sae 

kindly,  .  .  .  #370 
Hame,  hame,  hame,  &c.  *386 
Hark!  now  the  drums  beat 

up  again,        .  .  64 

Hark !    the  mavis'  evening 

sang,  .  .249 
Harmonious  pipe,  how  I  en- 

vye  thy  bliss,  .  .  #202 
Have  you  any  laws  to  mend,  *402 
He  courted  her  kindly,  .  *452 
Hee,  balow,  my  sweet  wee 

Donald,         .  .  417 

Her  daddy  forbad,  her  minny 

forbad,  .  .  *207 


Here  awa,  there  awa,  wan- 
dering Willie,  .  60 
Here  is  the  glen,  and  here 

the  bower,  .  .  14 
Here's  a  health  to  him  that's 

away,  .  .  371 

Here's  a  health  to  them  that's 

awa,  .  .  372 

Hey  for  bobbing  John,  .  474 
Hey,  now  the  day  dawis,  163 
Hech  hey  !  Robin,  quo'  she,  422 
Hoo  are  ye  kimmer,  .  *S15 
How  can  I  be  sad  on  my 

wedding  day,  .  .  136 
How  happy  is    the  rural 

clown,  .  .  237 

Husband,    husband,  cease 
your  strife,        .        .  ]12 

I. 

Ianthe  lovely,  the  joy  of  her 

swain,     '  .  108 

I  do  confess  thou'rt  smooth 

and  fair,  .  .  309 

I  feed  a  lad  at  Roodmass,  358 
If  those  who  live  in  shep- 
herds' bowers,  .  .  79 
If  thou'lt  play  me  fair  play,  413 
I  ha'e  a  cow,  I  ha'e  a  calf,  *412 
I  hae  a  wife  o'  my  ain,  ,  326 
1  hae  layen  three  herring  in 
f  saut,  .  .  229 

I'll  clip,  quo'  she,  yere  lang 

grey  wing,  .  .  81 
I'll  gang  nae  mair  to  yon 

town,  .  .  403 

I'll  hap  ye  wi'  my  petticoat,  130 
I'll  rowe  thee  o'er,  the  lea  rig,  53 
I'm  o'er  young  to  marry  yet,  110 
I'm  wearing  awa,  Jean,  .  168 
In  figure,  in  feature,  and 

powers  of  mind,  .  *196 
In  January  last,  .  396 

I  saw  three  ladies  fair,  .  369 
I  see  a  form,  I  see  a  face,  209 
It  fell  about  the  month  of 

June,  .  .  *3oo 

I've  heard  them  lilting  at  the 

ewe-milking,       .       .  67 
I've  heard  them  lilting,        *  146 
I've  seen  the  smiling  of  for- 
tune beguiling,  .  63 
I  was  born  near  four  miles, 
&c.           ...  *316 


XXIV 


fNDEX. 


I  will  awa'  wi'  my  luve, 
I  will  away, 

I  wish  I  were  where  Helen 
lies,  ...  143 

I  wish  I  war  where  Eelin 
Kes,  .       .       .  *210 

I  met  four  chaps  yon  birks 
amang,       ...  435 

It  was  in  and  about  the  Mar- 
tinmas,      .       .       .  *451 

I  wish  that  you  were  dead, 
goodman, 


Page  Page 

162    My    wife's  a  wanton  wee 
219       thing,    .  .        .        .  211 
My  wife's  a  winsome  wee 
thing>       •        .  .211 


N. 

Nancy's    to    the  Assembly 

gone,         .       .       t  *]24 
No  wonder  that  Apollo  left,  *134 

O. 

366    O  Brother  Sandie,  hear  ye 

the  news  ?        .         .  \2 

T  j  T  ,  J*    ,  0  dear>  minny»  what  shall  I 

Joan,  quod  John,  when  wy  11  do  ?    .       .  223 

this  be?     ...       228  O  fair  maid,  &c,    '.  *526 

Jockey's  fou,   and  Jenny's  O  far-famed  Rab !  my  silly 

*ain>        •        .        .       282       muse,         .       .       .  *294 

John  Anderson,  my  jo,  cum  0  gin  my  love  were  yon  red 

in  as  ye  gae  by,         .       243       rose,        .        .  507 

J ohn,  come  kiss  me  now,       298  Oh,  Nancy,  wilt  thou  go  with 

with  me,  .         .  ^0 

K.  O  ken  ye  what  Meg  o'  the 
Ken  ye  wha  supped  Bessy's  mill  has  gotten  ?  489 

haggles?        .  28  O  let  us  swim  in  blood  of 

King,  Lords  and  Commons,  *  1 93       grapes,       .       .       .  169 


O  Logan,  sweetly  didst  thou 

gKde,       .        .        .  43 
O  Logie  of  Buchan,  O  Logie 

the  laird,        .  .  337 

O  lassie,  art  thou  sleeping 

yet?        .  .  302 

O  my  bonnie,  bonnie  High- 
land laddie,       .        .  410 
On  the  blythe  Beltane,     .  *515 
402    On  Tweedside  dwells  a  gal- 
166       lant  swain,   .       .       .  524 


L. 

Last  May  a  braw  wooer  cam 

doun  the  lang  glen,  .  462 
Listen  here  awhile,  a  story  I 

will  tell,  .         .  *384 

Lived  ance  twa  luvers  in  yon 

dale,        .  •  .  395 

Lizae  Baillie's  to  Gartartan 

gane, 

Long  berdes  hertheles,  . 

Look  behind  and  you  shall  O,  open  the'  door,  love  Gre- 

see,  .  .  .  *127  gory,  .  .  .  *107 
Look  up  to  Pentland's  tow'r-  O  swiftly  glides  the  bonny 

ingtap,      ...        16      boat,         .        .       .  ^444 

O  the  ewe-bughting's  bon- 
M.  nie,        .       .       .  *201 

May  her  blest  example  chase,  132  O,  this  is  no  my  ain  house,  208 
My  daddie's    a    delver    of  O,  this  is  no  my  ain  house,  210 

dykes,       ...        99    Out  o'er  yon  moss,  out  o'er 

for  yon  muir,         .         .  *408 

93    Over  the  mountains,  and  un- 


My  luve  murnis  for  me 
me, 

My  luve's  in  Germany,  send 


him  hame, 
My  mother  sent  me  to 
well, 

My  sweetest  May,  let 
incline  thee, 


der  the  caves, 


140 


344  O  waly!  waly!  love  is  bonnie,  147 

the  O  were  my  love  yon  violet 
421       sweet,        <        .       .  538 

love  O  wha  for  honest  poverty,  285 

486  O  wha  is  she  that  lo'es  me,  134 


INDEX. 


XXV 


Page 

O  whar  hae  ye  been  a'  day,  *364 
O  when  shall  I  be  married,  401 
O  where  hae  ye  been,  Lord 

Randal,  my  son,  .  312 
O  whistle,  and  I'll  come  to 

you,  my  lad,  .  .  109 
O  Willie,  weel  I  mind  I  lent 

you  my  hand,     .       .  32 

P. 

Peace,  wayward  barne,  *204 
Peggy  in  devotion,  .  365 
Pray,  came  you  here  the 

fight  to  shun?  .  271 

Put  up  thy  dagger,  Jamie,  *303 

R. 

Returning  spring,  with  glad- 
some ray,       .        .  *366 

S. 

Sawney  was  tall  and  of  noble 

race,  ...  96 
Saw  ye  my  Maggie,  .  8 
Scots  wha  hae  wi'  Wallace 

bled,  ...  495 
See  where  the  Forth,  &c.  *296 
Should  auld  acquaintance  be 

forgot,  .  .  .  375 
Should  auld  acquaintance,  &c.*440 
Since  cruel  hearted  fate,  *  135 
Sleep' st  thou,  or  wak'st  thou, 

fairest  creature,  .  247 

Some  speiks  of  lords,  some 

speiks  of  lairds,  .  333 

Stay,  my  Willie,  yet  believe 

me,  ,  .  .  145 
Streams  that  glide  in  orient 

plains,  .  .  .  135 
Sweet  fa's  the  eve  on  Craigie- 

burn,        .        .        .  293 

T. 

The  canons  roar  and  trum- 
pets sound,        .       .  411 
The   cantie    spring  scarce 

rear'd  her  head,  .  477 
The  cock's  at  the  crawing,  *216 
The  cold  Winter  it  is  past,  *466 
The  collier  has  a  daughter,  52 
The  Coopers  they  came,  .  410 
The  Elphin  Knight  sits  on 
yon  hill,         .  .  63 


Pago 

The  first  day  I  landed,    .  *314 
The  grass  had  nae  freedom  o' 

growing,         .  .  6 

The  lovely  moon  had  climbed 

the  hill,      ...  39 
The  mucking  o'  Geordie's 

byre,       .        .  .100 
The  nine  pint  bicker's  fa'n, 

&c.        .         .         .  *392 
Then  Jockey  wou'd  a  wooing 

away,       .        .       .  160 
The  ploughman  he's  a  bony 

lad,  ^      .         .         .  158 
The  rain  rins  down  through 

merry  Lincoln,  .  500 

The  rain  rins  doon  through 

Mirryland  toun,         .  503 
The  reek  it  rose,  and  the 

flame  it  flew,      .       .  279 
There  is  not  a  tailor  in  all 

London  town,      .       .  *461 
There's  a  rose  in  Kenmore's 

cap,  Willie,        .       .  339 
There's  auld   Rob  Morris, 

that  wons  in  yon  glen,  183 
There's  braw,  braw  lads  on 

Yarrow  braes,  .  121 

There's  cauld  kail  in  Aber- 
deen,      .        .        .  151 
There's  nae  luck  about  the 

house,        .       .       .  49 
There  was  a  lass  dwelt  in  the 

north,       .        .       .  397 
There  was  a  lass,  thev  ca'd 

her  Meg,         .         .  139 
There  was  a  knight  and  he 

was  young,       .       .  420 
There  was  an  auld  man  was 

hauding  his  plow,       .  350 
There  was  a  pretty  may,  and 

a  milkin'  she  went,      .  345 
The  snows  are  dissolving  on 

Torno's  wild  shore,     .  348 
The  sun  is  sunk,  the  day  is 

done,   ....  539 
The  winter  it  is  past,      .       188  • 
Thickest  night  surrounds  my 

dwelling,         .         .  126 
Thy  braes  were  bonny,  Yar- 
row stream,       .       .  464 
Thou   hast   left   me  ever, 

Jamie,        ...  6 
Thy   restless  father  roams 

1  once  more,        .       .  M94 


xxvi 


INDEX. 


Tillielute,  tillielute,  &c.  *109 
To  daunton  me,  to  daunton 

me,  176 
To  your  arms,  to  your  arms, 

my  bonny  Highland  lads,  1 0 
Tune  your  fiddles,  tune  them 

sweetly,  .  .  .  190 
'Twas  even — the  dewy  fields 

were  green,  .  .  25 
'Twas  even — the  dewy  fields 

were  green,  .  .  260 
'Twas  na  her  bonnie  blue  een 

was  my  ruin,      .       .  212 

U. 

Up  and  war  them  a',  Willie,  179 
Up  wi'  the  souters  o'  Selkirk,  390 

W. 

Wee  Totum  Fogg,  .  455 
Weel  may  we  a'  be,  .  1 67 
We'll  put  the  sheep-head  in 

the  pat,  ...  353 
We're  a'  dry  wi'  drinking  o't,  82 
Were  I  but  able  to  rehearse,  287 
Whan  winter's    wind  was 

blawing  cauld,  .  398 

What  merriment  has  ta'en  the 

Whigs,  .  .  .  *455 
When  absent  from  the  nymph 

Hove,  ...  56 
When  first  my  dear  Johnny 

came  to  this  toun,  .  301 
When  first  she  cam  to  toun,  *299 
When  I  sleep  I  dream,  .  206 
When  I  think  on  this  warld's 

pelf,        ...  32 


When  I  was  in  my  se'en- 
teenth  year,       .        .  27 

When  Maggie  and  I  were 
acquaint,         .  .  36 

When  merry  hearts  were  gay,  239 

When  Phoebus  bright  the 
azure  skies,       .        .  203 

When  silent  Time,  with  light- 
ly foot,        .       .  .521 

When  steeds  were  saddled,  *319 

When  the  sheep  are  in  the 
fauld,       ...  233 

When  white  was  my  o'erlay,*  317 

When  wild  war's  deadly  blast 
was  blawn,       .        .  226 

When  you  came  over  first  frae 
France,      .       .       .  n 

Where  got'st  thou  that  haver- 
mill  bonack,       .       .  102 

Who  is  at  my  window,  who, 
who,        ...  498 

Why  tarries  my  love,     .     *31 1 

Y. 

Ye  banks,  and  braes,  and 

streams  around,  .  153 
Ye'll  bring  me  here  a  pint  of 

wine,  .  .  .  *305 
Ye  Lothian  lairds,  in  sable 

weeds,  .  .  .  *192 
You  have  heard  of  our  sweet 

little  races  at  Kelso,  .  529 
Young  Philander  woo'd  me 

lang,  ...  214 
Young  Randal  was  a  bonny 

lad,  ....  *465 
You  will  think  it,  my  duck, 

for  the  fault  I  must  own,  20 


GENERAL  INDEX 

TO  THE 

ILLUSTRATIONS. 


[•%*  The  Names  of  thefScotish  Lyric  Poets,  specimens  of  whose  Songs 
are  contained  in  the  Musical  Museum,  are  printed  in  Capital  Letters.'] 


A. 

Abell,  John,  of  the  Chapel  Royal, 
153,  155. 

Aberdeen  Cantus  ;  a  Collection  of 
Songs,  &c,  1662,  1666,  and 
1682,  140.  See  also  Introduc- 
tion. 

Adams,  Jean,  (Died  1765,)  46, 

*117,  *398. 
Aird's  Musical  Collections  for  the 

Violin,  403,423. 
Anderson,  John,  music  engraver, 

Edinburgh,  (Alive  1839,)  485, 

487,  527. 
Anderson,  Thomas,  piper  in  Kelso, 

*379. 

Armstrong,  John,  old  ballad,  and 

historical  notices,  327,  333. 
Arne,  Thomas  Augustine,  Mus. 

Doct.,  song  by,  40. 
Austin  Adam,  M.D.,  (B.  1726? 

_D.  1774,)  153,  *214,  *466. 
Aytoun,  Sir  Robert,  (B.  1570, 

D.  1638,)  308,  *363. 

B. 

Baillie,  Lady  Grisell,  (B.  1665, 
'  D.  1746,)  119,  *200. 
Baillie,  Miss  Joanna  *317,  *443, 

*444,  539. 
Barclay,  Rev.  John,  (B.  1734, 

IJ.  1798,)  271,  *322. 


Barnard,  Lady  Ann,  vide  Lindsay. 
Barrett,  John,  organist,  319. 
Battishill,  Jonathan,  34. 
Beattie,  James,  D.D.,  (B.  1735, 

D.  1803,)  45,  108. 
Berg,  Mr,  14. 

Berwick,  Friars  of,  an  old  Scotish 
poem,  attributed  to  Dunbar,  292. 

Biggar,  Dissenting  clergyman  at, 
song  attributed  to,  360. 

Binning,  Charles  Hamilton,  Lord, 
(B.  1696,  D.  1732,)  *447. 

Birnie,  Patrick,  fiddler  at  King- 
horn,  (Flour.  1700,)  427,  *461. 

Blacklock,  Thomas,  D.  D.,  (B. 
1721,  D.  1791,)  94,  119,  127, 
137,  141,  159,  171,  177,  *199, 
211,  230,  276,  317,  321,  352, 
414,  *455. 

Blamire,  Miss,  of  Carlisle,  (Died 
1795,  aged  about  36,  not  49,  as 
stated  at  p.  521.) 

Border  Bag-pipers,  Notices  of 
*378-*381. 

Boswell,  Sir  Alexander,  of 
Auchinleck,  Bart.,  (B.  1775,  D. 
1822,)  435,  466,  512,  518. 

Boswell,  James,  of  Auchinleck, 
528. 

Both  well,  Lady  Ann,  *203. 
Brash,  James,  bookseller,  Glasgow, 
*214. 


xxviii 


GENERAL  INDEX. 


Bremner,  Robert,  musician,  110, 

313,  336,  349. 
Bruce,  John,  musician,  Dumfries, 

109,  236,  *410. 
Bruce,  Michael,  (B.  1746,  D.  1767,) 
262. 

Bryce,  Rev.  Alexander,  (J?.  1714, 
B.  1786,)  *76,  *137,  *138. 

Buchan,  Peter,  Gleanings  of  Bal- 
lads, quoted  *381,  *461. 

Burn,  Minstrel,  a  Border  poet  and 
musician,  203,  *298. 

Burn,  Nicol,  a  Roman  Catholic 
priest,  *298. 

Burns,  Robert,  (B.  1759,  D. 
1796,)  5,  14,  25,  43,  60,  79,  83, 
91,  102-105,  107,  109-118, 
121,  123,  126,  131,  134,  135, 
137,  139,  142,  145-148,  157, 
1 58, 1 66, 1 70-1 85, 202, 206-22 1 , 
224,  226,  236,  241-248,  253, 
258, 262,  274, 275, 280, 284-287, 
290,  291,  295, 296,  300,  &c,  &c. 
&c.  passim. 

Byrd,  William,  organist,  300. 

C. 

Cameron,  Rev.    William,  (B. 

1751,  D.  1811,)  291,  *324. 
Campbell,  Alexander,  250,  508. 
—  Albyn's  Anthology,  quot- 
ed passim. 
  Extract   from  M.S. 

Journal,  *378. 
Campbell,  Thomas,  {Alive  1839,) 

445,  515. 
Carey,   David,   (B.    1782,  D. 

1824,)  song  by,  441,  514. 
Carnegie,  James,  of  Balnamoon, 

Song  attributed  to,  *140. 
Carter,  Thomas,  30. 
Cassillis,  Earl  of,  Letter  on  the 

Death  of  his  Lady,  in  1642, 

*218. 

Chalmers,  Alexander,  Biographical 

Dictionary,  quoted  *304,  *308. 
Chalmers,  George,  edition  of  Allan 

Ramsay's  Poems,  176,  *319. 
Chalmers,     James,    account  of 

Hamilton  of  Bangour,  *293. 
Chambers,  Robert,  song  of  Young 

Randal,  *465. 
 Scottish  Songs,  quoted 

passim  in  Addit.  Illust. 


Chambers'  Biographical  Dictionary, 

quoted  137,  516. 
 edition  of  Burns,  quoted 

*221. 

ChappeU's  National  English  Airs, 

quoted  *207. 
Clarinda,    Mrs    M'Lehose,  vide 

M'Lehose,  Mrs, 
■  Burns's  Letters  to,  221, 

*369. 

Clarke,  Jeremiah,  organist,  Lon- 
don, 83,  84,  483. 

Clark,  Stephen,  organist,  Edin- 
burgh, 127,  184,  185,  346,  393, 
401,  434,  472,  480,  481. 

Clark,  William,  organist,  Edin- 
burgh, 167,  495. 

Cleland,  Lieut-Col.  William,  316, 
*366. 

Clerk,   Sir  John,  of  Penicuik, 

Bart.,  (B.  1680  ID.  1755,)  120, 

*201,  *202. 
Clunie,  Rev.  John,  (B.  1757,  D. 

1819,)  251. 
Cockburn,  Alicia  Rutherford, 

Mrs,  149, 150,*  122,  *130,*399- 

*402. 

Cockburn,  Catharine  Trotter,  Mrs, 
*130. 

Cockburn,  Catharine  Rutherford, 
Mrs,  149,  150,  *127,  *149. 

Cooper,  Isaac,  musician,  Banff,  496. 

Corbet,  Miss  Grace,  504. 

Couper,  Robert,  M.D.,(Z?.  1750, 
D.  1818,)  440,  513. 

Craig,  Adam,  musician,  Edinburgh, 
57. 

Craig,  Agnes,  vide  M'Lehose,  Mrs. 
Cranstoun,    Helen    Darcy,  vide 

Stewart,  Mrs  Dugald, 
Crawfurd,  Patrick,  of  Auchinames, 

*  1 13-*  115. 
Crawfurd,  Robert,  (B.   1 695  ? 

D.  1733,)  36,  45,  74,  78,  85, 

86, 94, 1 1 1,  203,  H 13,  *384,  *385. 
Crawfurd,  William,  [Robert]  vide 

supra. 
Crokat,  James,  222. 
Crokat,  Mrs,  222. 
Cromek,  R.  H.,  Reliques  of  Burns, 

quoted  passim. 
-   Remains  of  Nithsdale  and 

Galloway  Song,  350,  352,  358, 

392,  419,  437. 


GENERAL  INDEX. 


xxix 


Cumming,  Angus,  of  Granton,  78, 

252,  485. 
Cunningham,  Allan,  (Alive  \8S9,) 

82,   *116,  *144,   *382,  *385, 

*439,  *456. 
Cunningham,  John,  34. 
Cunningham,  Peter,  Collection  of 

Songs,  539. 
Currie,   Dr,   edition   of  Burns's 

Works,  quoted  passim. 

D. 

Dale's  Collection  of  Scots  Songs, 
81,  151. 

Dalrymple  (Sir  D.)  Lord  Hailes, 
Letter  respecting  the  ballad 
"  Argyle's  Levee,"  *445. 

Dalrymple,  Sir  Hew,  of  North  Ber- 
wick, *127. 

Dalyell,  Sir  John  G.,  communica- 
tion respecting  Mr  Graham  of 
Gartmore,  521. 

Dauney,  William,  Ancient  Scotish 
Melodies,  from  Skene's  MS., 
*110,  *395,  *403. 

Dick,  Lady,  of  Prestonfield,  523- 
525. 

Douglas,  Reverend  Robert,  *218, 
*219. 

Drummond,  Miss  Jean,  afterwards 
Duchess  of  Athole,  153,  *214. 

Dowland,  John,  468,  499. 

Dudgeon,  Robert,  40,  *395. 

Dudgeon,  William,(.B.  1753  ?  D. 
1813,)  40,  *395,  *397. 

Duncan  Gray,  vide  Gray. 

Dunbar,  William,  the  Scotish  poet, 
162. 

Durfey,  Thomas,  246,  394,  490. 

 Pills  to  Purge  Melancholy, 

quoted  passim. 

E. 

Ebdon,  Thomas,  organist,  Dur- 
ham, 498. 

Eglinton,  Susanna,  Countess  of, 
*202. 

Elliot,  Sir  Gilbert,  of  Minto, 
Bart.  (B.  1722,  I).  1777,)  96, 
148,  201,  *140,  *211,  *295, 
*296,  *297. 

Elliot,  Miss  Jane,  of  Minto,  (B. 
1727,  D.  1805,)  67,  *  130-' 132. 


Erskine,    Honourable  Andrew, 

(B.  1739?  D.  1793,)  490,528. 
Erskine,  Major-Gen.  Sir  Henry, 

Bart.,  (B.  1720?  Z>.  1765,)  202, 

*298,*400. 
Erskine,  Honourable  Henry,  532. 
Ewen,  John,  merchant,  Aberdeen, 

(B.    1741,   D.    1821,)  *380, 

*441-*443. 

F, 

Falconer,  William,  (B.  1730, 

D.  1769,)  199,  *293. 
Fergus,  Mr,  organist,  Glasgow, 454. 
Fergusson,  Robert,  (B.  1750,  D. 

1774,)  53,  121,  133,  173,  399, 

*450,  *451. 
Finlay's  (John)  Scottish  Ballads, 

quoted,  *457. 
Forbes,    Duncan,   of  Culloden, 

Lord  President,  (B.  1684,  D. 

1747,)  34,  70,  111,  *133,  *320. 
Forbes,  Rev.  John,  *46l. 
Fordyce,  David,  217,  *304. 
Fordyce,  James,  D.D.,  (#.  1720? 

D.  1796,)  217,  *304. 
Forsyth's  (Walter)  Border  Pipers, 

*379. 

Fraser,  Thomas,  musician,  5,  6. 
Fraser's  (Captain)  Collection  of 

Gaelic  Airs,  136,  209,  255. 
Freebairn,  Mr,  his  Eloge  d'  Ecosse, 

quoted  *399. 

G. 

G,  (B,)  song  by,  *220. 

Gall,  Richard,  (B.  1766,  D. 
1801,)  443,  457,  460-466,  472, 
473,  488,  489,  515. 

Gay,  John,  Songs  to  Scottish  Airs, 
in  his  Beggar's  Opera,  52. 

Geddes,  Alexander,  D.D.,  (B. 
1737,  D.  1802,)  90,  432,  *463. 

Geddes,  Rev.  William,  Saint's  Re- 
creations, 93,  94. 

Gilderoy,  aHighland  freebooter,  7 1 , 
*320. 

Gleig's,  Rev.  G.  R.,  History  of 

England,  quoted  *207. 
Glover,   Jean,   (B.    1758,  2). 

1801,)  313,  *365. 
Good's  (Dr  Mason)  Life  of  Geddes, 

quoted  *463. 


XXX 


GENERAL  INDEX. 


Gordon,  Alexander,  Fourth  Duke 
or,  (B.  1743,  2).  1827,)  152, 
*212. 

Gordon,  Sir  Robert,  of  Straloch, 

his  MS.  Lute  Book,  1627,  *105, 
138-*]  40,  *215,  *533. 
Gow,  Neil,  musician,  241, 
 Neil  and  Nathaniel,  Musical 

Collections,  quoted  passim. 
Graham,  Dougal,  (2?.  1724'  2). 

1779,)  *110,  Mil. 
Graham,  George  Farquhar,  Esq. 

Old  Airs  harmonized  or  decy. 

phered  by,   *139,  -37 1,  *376, 

*377,  *408,  534. 
Graham,  James,  British  Georgics, 

quoted  242. 
Graham,  Miss  Jenny,  ofDumfries, 

(B.  1724,2).  1805,)  101,  *141- 

*144,  *408. 
Graham,  Robert,  of  Gartmore,  (B. 

1750,  2).  1797,)  473,  521. 
Gray,  Duncan,  148. 
Green,  Maurice,  88. 
Gregg,  James,  teacher  of  dancing, 

Ayrshire,  484. 
Grant,  Mrs,  of  Carron,  afterwards 

Mrs  Dr  Murray,  of  Bath,  {B. 

1744?£>.  1814?)  320,  *368,*369. 
Grant,  Mrs  Anne,  of  Laggan,  (B. 

1755,  2).  1838,)  527. 
Gunn,  John,  on  the  Harp,  quoted 
*373,  *377. 

H. 

Hackston,  schoolmaster,  *385. 

Halket,  Sir  Alexander,  of  Pitferran, 
*133,  *320. 

Halket,  Elizabeth,  vide  Ward- 
law,  Lady. 

Halket,  George,  *381. 

Hamilton,  Janet,  (Mrs  Moore,) 
19,  20. 

Halley,  George,  Account  of  the 
Murrays  of  Tullibardine,  *222. 

Hamilton,  John,  musicseller, 
Edinburgh,  (5.  1761,  2).  1814,) 
459,  485,  496,  506,  510,  537. 

Hamilton,  Lord  William,  Lament 
for  his  Death,  *135. 

Hamilton,  William,  of  Bangour, 
(B.  1704,  2).  1754,)  128,  140, 
171,  192,  488,  492,  *293. 


Hamilton,  Capt.  William,  of 
Gilbertfield,  1680P2).  1751,) 
•135,  *205,  *206,  *444. 

Hardyknute,  263,  *319. 

Hastie,  John,  Border  piper,  *379. 

Hastie,  Robert,  town  piper  of  Jed- 
burgh, 335,  *379. 

Haydn,  Joseph,  Mus.  Doct.  121. 

Herd,  David,  Collection  of  Scot- 
tish Songs  and  Ballads,  quoted 
passim. 

Hewitt,  Richard,  5,  *108. 

Hilton's  Northern  Catch,  1652, 
quoted  133. 

Hoadley,  John,  LL.D.,  89. 

Hogg's  Jacobite  Relics,  quoted  pas- 
sim. 

Home,  Miss  Anne,  vide  Hunter, 
Mrs. 

Home,  Grisell,  vide  Baillie,  Lady 

Grisell. 
Home,  John,  456. 
Howard,  Samuel,  Mus.  Doct.  432, 

433. 

Hugh  of  Lincoln,  Ballads  respect- 
ing, *490,  535. 

Hunter,  Anne  Home,  Mrs,  (B. 
1742,  2).  1821,)  67,  M32,  »133. 


I. 

Inglis,  Mrs  Richmond,  *297. 


J. 

James  the  Fifth,  King  of  Scot- 
land, (2?.  1511,  D.  1542,)  216, 

250 

Jamieson,  Robert,  Popular  Ballads 
and  Songs,  469,  474,  500. 

Jeffreys,  Mr,  520. 

Jenny  Nettles,  tradition  respecting, 
*120. 

Johnson,  Charles,  488. 

Johnson,  James,  publisher  of  the 
Scots  Musical  Museum,  274, 
passim. 

Johnson,  Mr,  313. 

Johnston,  Miss,  of  Hilton,  after- 
wards Mrs  Oswald,  *318. 

K. 

Keith,  Anne  Murray,  (B.  1730, 
2).  1818,)  75,  *129,  *J36. 


GENERAL  INDEX. 


xxxi 


Keith,  Sir  Robert  Murray,  Bart., 
(B.  1732,  D.  1795,)  *300,*302. 

Kenmure,  Gordon,  Viscount  of, 
338. 

Kellie,  Thomas  Alexander,  Earl  of, 

529-532. 
Kennedy,  Professor  Herbert,  107, 

*198. 

Kennedy,  Susanna,  vide  Eglinton, 

Countess  of. 
Kintore,  Countess  of,  *307. 
Kirkconnell,  Helen  of,  tradition 

respecting,  *209,  *211. 
Knyvett,  William,  376. 

L. 

Lapraik,   John,  (B.  1717,  B. 

1807,)  200,  202,  *294,  *297. 
Lawries  of  Maxwelton,  *362. 
Learmont,  John,  (B.  1765?  D. 

1810,)  298,  *361,  362*. 
Leeves,  Reverend  William,  air  by, 

231. 

Lesly,  Alexander,  of  Doveran,  bal- 
lad attributed  to,  *304. 

Lewis,  Stewart,  poem  on  fair  Helen 
of  Kirkconnell,  *208,  *365. 

Lindsay,  Lady  Anne,  Lady  Bar- 
nard, (B.  1750,  D.  1825,)  230, 
337,  *310,  *312. 

Lockhart's  (J.  G.)  Life  of  Burns, 
quoted  *392. 

Logan,  Reverend  John,  (B.  1748, 
D.  1788,)  68,  464. 

Lowe,  Reverend  John,  (B.  1750, 
D.  1798,)  37,  *116. 

M. 

Macauley,  Mr,  456,  517. 
Macaulay,  James,  517. 
Macdonald,  Andeew,  (B.  1757, 

D.  1790,)  225,  *307. 
Macdonald,  Patrick,  collection  of 

Highland  tunes,  372,  *374. 
Macfarlan,  Miss,  *299. 
Macgibbon,    William,  musician, 

Edinburgh,  192,  198,  199. 
Macgill,  John,  musician,  Girvan, 

Ayrshire,  202,  467. 
Macgregor,  Captain  John  Drum- 

mond,  176. 
Macgregor,   Joseph,   Esq.  com- 
munication respecting  Marshall, 

*413. 


Mackay,  Rev.  Nath.  vide  M'Kie. 

Mackenzie,  Henry,  {B.  1745,  D. 
1831,)  492,  532,  533. 

M'Kie,  Rev.  Nathaniel,  (£.  1715, 
D.  1781,)  431,  *462. 

Macintyre,  Robert,  musician,  Ed- 
inburgh, 379,  441,  479. 

Maclean,  Donald,  border  piper, 
*379. 

M'Lehose,  Agnes  Craig,  Mrs, 
(B.  1759,  alive  1839,)  178,  180 
*220,  *221,  *222. 

M'Lennan,  Rev.  Murdoch,  *321, 
*416. 

Macneill,  Hector,  {B.  1746,  D. 
1818,)  238,  251,  344,  393,  440, 
467,  473,  485,  *313. 

Macpherson,  James,  (B.  1738,  D. 
1796,)  241. 

Mactaggart's  Gallovidian  Encyclo- 
pedia, quoted  *118,  *365. 

Mac  vicar,  Mr,  {Flour.  1760,)  1, 
*105. 

Maigh,  David,  78. 

Mallet,  or  Malloch,  David,  (B. 
1700,  D.  1765,)  58,  75,  381, 
470,  *399,  *444,  *445, 520,  536. 

Mansfield,  Thomas,  Esq.,  MS. 
Collection  of  Songs,  quoted  *402, 
*408,  *410,  *412,  *416,  529. 

Marlow,  Christopher,  468. 

Marshall,  William,  musician,  115, 
190,  221,  *305,  *413-*416. 

Marvell,  Andrew,  519. 

Mary  Queen  of  Scots,  *207. 

Mary  Scott,  the  Flower  of  Yarrow, 
vide  Scott. 

Masterton,  Allan,  Writing-mas- 
ter, Edinburgh,  airs  composed 
by,  126,  208,  258,  275,  286, 
*323,  393,  *413,  442. 

Masterton,  Miss  Ann,  afterwards 
Mrs  Derbishire,  *299. 

Mavne,  John,(.B.  1759,  D.  1836,) 
25,  42,  *116,  *397,  *398. 

Michel,  M.  Francisque,  publication 
of  Hughes  de  Lincoln,  535. 

Mickle,  William  Junius,  (B 
1734,  D.  1788,)  45,  *116,  *  1 1 7 . 

Miller,  James,  Depute  -  Teind- 
Clerk,  346. 

Mitchell,  Joseph,  (/?.  1084,  D. 
1734,)  54,  59,  *399,  *444,  *446. 


xxxii 


GENERAL  INDEX. 


Montgomery,     Captain  Alex- 
ander,   {Flour.  1584,)  *163, 
*215,  406,  *453. 
Montrose,  James,  Marquis  of, 

(B.  1612,  D.  1650,)  400,  429. 
Morison,  Roderick,  blind  harper, 

vide  Rory  Dall. 
Moore,  Edward,  19. 
Motherwell,  William,  539. 

 Edition    of  Burns, 

quoted  passim  in  Addit.  lllust. 
Muirhead,  James,    D.  D.,  (B 

1740,  D.  1808,)  3,  *106. 
Mundell,  Dr  Robert,  (B.  1758, 

Alive  1839,)  357,  *391. 
Murray,  Lady,  of  Stanhope,  *200. 
Murray,  Anne  Keith,  vide  Keith. 
Murray,  Mrs,  of  Bath,  vide  Grant, 

Mrs,  of  Carron. 
Murray,  Sir  Robert  Keith,  vide 
Keith. 

Murray,  Dr  Thomas,  Literary  His- 
tory of  Galloway,  quoted  513. 

Murrays  of  Tullibardine,  family  of, 
*222.  J 

N. 

Napier,  Mark,  his  Partition  of  the 

Lennox,  quoted  *121. 
Neill,  Thomas,  precentor,  *221. 
Newbattle,  Lord,  Song  attributed 

to,  4  J  9. 
Nicoll,  William,  286,  *323. 


Oswald,  James,  musician,  95,  176, 

346,  *I05,  *406-*408. 
 .  Musical  Collections,  quoted 

passim. 

 Airs  composed  by,  passim 

173,  201,  202,  205,  314,  315, 
325,  339,  361,  466. 

 Poetical  Epistle  to,  in  1 741, 

*406. 

P. 

Pagan,  Isabel,  *316. 

Pasquali,  Signor,  315. 

Percy,  Thomas,  DD.,  Bishop  of 

Dromore,  30,  *315. 
Phillips,  Ambrose,  41. 
Pickering,  Thomas,  348. 
Pjnkerton,  John,  (B.  1758,  D 
1825,)  454,  *32l,  515,  516. 


Playford's,  John,  Dancing-master, 
1 657,  quoted  1 1 3,  1 29,  1 69, 30 1 , 
308,  315,  316,  318,  322,  359. 

 ■  Musick's  Handmaid, 

1678,  quoted  391. 

■  Choyce  Ayresand  Songs, 


79,  quoted  394,  396. 

Wit  and  Mirth,  li 


1703,  quoted  3,  394,  398,  400. 
Poe,  Mr,  51. 

Pringle,  Andrew,  Lord  Alemore, 

*400. 

Pringle,  Thomas/200. 
Purcell,  Henry,  132. 

R. 

R.  S.,  Song  by,  74. 

Ramsay,  Allan,  (B.  1686,  D. 
1757),  Songs,  &c.  by,  2,  9,  15, 
16,  17,  18,  21,  22,  23,  28,  56, 
57,  58,  62,  68,  85,  90,  91,  96, 
98,  119,120,  122,  125,  127,  130, 
137,  141,  161,  162,  168,  169, 
176,  208,  221,  224,  225,  236, 
237,  240,  310,  381,  382,  442, 
459,  460,  482,  490. 

 Tea- Table  Miscellany,  1724- 

1740,  quoted  passim. 

 Authors  of  Songs  in,  and  edi  ■ 

tions  of  that  work,  *108,  *382_ 
*384,  "393. 

 MS.  of  the  Gentle  Shepherd, 

*202, 

Reid,  General  John,  202,  203. 

Ramsay,  Philip  A.,  edition  of  Tan- 
nahill's  Poems,  538. 

Reid,  William,  Bookseller,  Glas- 
gow, {B.  1764,  D.  1831.)  53, 
152,  *212. 

Richardson,  John,  537. 

Riddell,  John,  musician,  253. 

Riddell,  Maria  Woodley,  Mrs,  (B. 
1778?  D.  1812,)215/208,*303. 

Riddell,  Robert,  of  Glenriddell, 
290,  306,  341,  *302,  *323. 

Rizzio,  David,  Scotish  airs  attributed 
to,  1,  10,  36,  *105. 

Robertson,  Alexander,  of  Stro- 
wan,  (B.  1670,  2).  1749,)  113. 
137,  141,  *199. 

Robertson,  Alexander,  engraver 
and  musician,  Edinburgh,  (B 
1750?  D.  1819,)  405,  *452. 


GENERAL  INDEX. 


XXX111 


Robertson's  Calliope,  1 739,  quoted 
118. 

Rory  Dall,  (or  Roderick  Morison,) 
the  blind  harper,  324,  *372_ 
*376. 

Ross,  Alexander,  of  Lochlee,  (B. 

1700,  D.  1783,)  252,  391,  472, 

*317,  "*448. 
Rutherford,  Catharine  [Alicia],  vide 

Cockburn,  Mrs. 
Rutherford,  Elizabeth,  vide  Scott, 

Mrs,  of  Wauchope. 

S. 

S.  M.,  air  by,  313. 
Schetky,  Mr,  violoncello  player,  40, 
185. 

Scott,  Alexander,  {Flour.  1568,) 
527. 

Scott,  Elizabeth  Rutherford,  Mrs, 
of  Wauchope,  (B.  1729,  D. 
1789,)  230,  *308. 

Scott  Mrs,  of  Dumbartonshire, 
(Flour.  1780,)  6,  *394. 

Scott,  Marv,  the  Flower  of  Yarrow, 
36,  37,  77,  78,*115. 

Scott,  R.,  of  Biggar,  111. 

Scott,  Thomas,  of  Monklaw,  No- 
tices of  Border  Pipers,  *378- 
*380. 

Scott,  Sir  Walter,  Bart.,  (B.  1772, 
D.  1833,)  Border  Minstrelsy, 
quoted  passim. 

 Recollections  of  Mrs  Cock- 
burn,  authoress  of  the  Flowers 
of  the  Forest,  *  123— mistake  re- 
garding her  name,  *129,  *401. 

Scott,  Sir  William,  of  Thirlstane, 
(B.  1670?  D.  1725,)  *121. 

Sedley,  Sir  Charles,  song  by,  com- 
monly attributed  to  President 
Forbes,  *133,  *320. 

Selkirk,  Souters  of,  tradition  re- 
specting, 386. 

Semple,  Francis,  of  Beltrees, 
(Flour.  1650,)87,*121,475,522. 

Sharpe,  Charles  K.,  Esq.,  Ballad- 
Book,  *306. 

  Edition  of  Lord  Kelly's 

Minuets,  532. 

Sheridan,  Richard  Brinsley,  22, 51 . 

Shirrefs,  Andrew,  (Flour.  1787,) 
479,  525. 


Shield,  William,  musical  composer, 
24,  375. 

Sibbald,  James,  bookseller,  Edin- 
burgh, *  14 1,  510. 
Sillar,    David,  (B.    1760,  D. 

1830,)  180,  *22l. 
Sim,  Reverend  John,  47. 
Skene,  John,  Musical  Manuscript, 

(circa  1615,)  18,  61,  *110,  125, 

*395,  445,  505. 
Skinner,  Rev.  John,  (B.  1721, 

D.  1807,)  189,  276,  281,  283, 

287,  *323,  *412. 
Skirving,  Adam,  farmer,  (B.  1719, 

J).  1803,)  105,  220,*  189,*  192, 

*305. 

Skirving,  Archibald,  portrait-pain- 
ter, (B.  1749,  D.  1819,)  *193, 
*194. 

Skirving,  Captain  Robert,  Letter 

respecting  his    Father,  *190; 

verses  by,  *193-*198. 
Smith,  John  Stafford,  his  Musica 

Antiqua  Anglicana,  228,  391, 

503. 

Smith,  Robert  A.,  musician,  538, 
539. 

Smollett,  Tobias,  M.D.,  (B. 
1721,  D.  1774,)  133. 

Spence,  Sir  Patrick,  ballad  of,  423, 
*320,  *457. 

Southerne,  Thomas,  song  by,  56. 

Strachan,  Dr,  Carnwarth,  *449. 

Stewart,  H.  D.  Cranstoun,  Mrs 
Dugald,  (B.  1765,  D.  1838,) 
319,  *366. 

Stuart,  Alexander,  music  to  Ram- 
say's Tea  -  Table  Miscellany, 
*394. 

Sutherland,  Earl  and  Countess  of, 
Lines  on  their  Funeral,  by  Sir 
G.  Elliot,  *296. 

Swift,  Dean  Jonathan,  486. 

Sybold,  Mr,  harp-player,  419. 

Sy  ron,  George,  a  negro,  song  by,  5 1 . 

Syme,  George,  piper,  *379,  *381. 

T. 

Tait,  John,  Writer  to  the  Signet, 
(B.  1752?  D.  1817,)  456,  *507. 

Tannahill,  Robert,  Edition  of  his 
Poems,  with  Life  by  P.  A. 
Ramsay,  538,  451. 


xxxiv 


GENERAL  INDEX. 


Tenducci,  Ferdinando,  a  celebrated 
•*  singer,  4,  *107,  *451. 
Tennant,  Professor  William,  478, 
523. 

Thomson,  George,  Correspondence 
with  Burns,  quoted  passim. 

 Collection  of  Scottish 

Songs,  quoted  *317,  *444,  487, 
512,  537. 

Thomson,  James,  (2?.  1700,  D. 
1748,)  42,  79,  505,  535,  536. 

Thomson,  William,  Orpheus  Cale- 
donius,  1725-1733,  quoted  pas- 
sim. 

Tytler,  James,  (B.  1747,  B. 
1805,)  73,  83,  98,  100, 122,  134, 
*411. 

Tytler,  William,  of  Woodhouselee 
1,5. 

U. 

Urbani,   P.,   Collection  of  Scots 

Songs,  318,  394. 
Urquhart  of  Craigston,  *388. 

V. 

Vane,  Lady,  Lament  on  the  Death 
of  her  Husband,  Lord  W.  Ham- 
ilton, »135. 

W. 

Walkinshaw,  William,  128,  *205. 
Wallace,  Sir  William,  ballads  on, 
426,  *458-*460. 


Wallace,  William,  of  Cairn- 
hill,  (B.  1712?  D.  1763,)  108, 

*198. 

Walsh's  Caledonian  Country 
Dances,  219. 

Watlen,  John,  377- 

Wardlaw,  Elizabeth  Halket, 
Lady,  of  Pitrevie,  (B.  1677,  D. 
1727,)  72,  268,  *319,  *458. 

Watts's  Musical  Miscellany,  1729- 
1731,  quoted  119,  162. 

Watson's  Collection  of  Scots 
Poems,  1706-1711,  quoted  pas- 
sim. 

Webster,  Alexander,  D.D.,(2?. 

1707,  D.  1784,)  224,  *307. 
Williams,  Helen  Maria,  song  by, 

attributed  to  Burns,  *468. 
Wood,  Thomas,  of  St  Andrews, 

Musical  Manuscripts,  1566,  &c, 

147,  369,  407,  *440. 
Wotton,  Sir  Henry,  song  by,  *454. 
Wordsworth,  William,  Poems  on 

Yarrow,  518. 
Whyte,   William,    Collection  of 

Scottish  Songs,  121. 

Y. 

Yester,  John  Lord,  (B.  1645, 
D.  1713,)  36,  *112. 

Young,  Alexander,  of  Harburn, 
Esq.,  communication  respecting 
Miss  Jenny  Graham,  *143. 


FINIS. 


EDINBURGH  :  PRINTED  BY  BALLANTVNE  AND  HUGHES,  PAUL'S  WORK. 


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